


Heart to Break

by grimeysociety



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Corporate, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Christmas, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Jewish Darcy Lewis, Sex Positive, Sugar Baby Darcy Lewis, Sugar Daddy Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimeysociety/pseuds/grimeysociety
Summary: After Darcy is fired, she agrees to an arrangement with wealthy lawyer Steve Rogers, which consists of the following - he gets to shower her with money and gifts while she pretends she's his girlfriend for the holidays, and not his sugar baby. That being said, just because Darcy's a sugar baby, it doesn't mean she's a good one.
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 1031
Kudos: 802





	1. i. Baby

**Author's Note:**

> what's up gamers
> 
> As promised, here's the Shieldshock sugar baby story, this time with a Christmas twist. I can only promise a lot of smut and a lot of feelings. I'm hoping to to write this crack unashamedly, without deadlines, but also it would be nice to keep this done by January 1st, 2021. We'll see. ❤ Love you. 
> 
> PLEASE spam me with encouragement so I know this will actually get read.

__

_One look at you, I'm powerless_  
 _I feel my body saying yes_ **  
\- "Heart to Break" by Kim Petras**

**i. Baby**

“Hold the door, please!”

She raced in, out of breath, plant in her arms. The elevator was currently occupied with three men, and Darcy dashed in just as the doors were closing. They all wore suits, taking the elevator down from higher up, which meant they were paid significantly more than her. It seemed the literal depth from yourself to the ground floor dictated the pay check you received, not that Darcy had much interest in that anymore.

The men she’d crammed in with all stared at her as she pushed inside, the long leaves of her plant poking two of them, the third in the opposite corner to her. He was the handsome one, in an Abercrombie kind of way that had Darcy averting her eyes. His lips had parted at the sight of her, his phone in one of his large hands that he stopped staring down at. The other two men looked irritated by her, which was fair. She was breaking protocol. Temps were supposed to wait for the next elevator if anyone was in it when it arrived at their floor, simply because it wasn’t the company’s style to allow the hierarchy to be fucked around with in that way. Darcy was lower than dirt, and the men she was sharing the elevator with must know that, too, and not just because she was wearing a Target skirt with scuffed leather pumps.

The two grumpier men exchanged a glance, but the good-looking one with dark blond hair kept looking at Darcy, inspecting her. He would notice the coffee stain on her front, the tear in her tights, and how all her things were shoved into a box she’d stolen from the copy room.

“Unbelievable,” one of the other men muttered, scoffing.

“I’ve already been fired, don’t worry,” Darcy muttered, glaring at him. She pushed her glasses up her nose, not breaking eye contact. “So don’t worry about contacting HR.”

The tense silence that followed stretched on and on, broken only by the car finally stopping on the ground floor, Darcy turning her heel and walking out, wobbling a little with the weight of the box making her arms begin to shake.

“Are you alright?” came a voice, and she turned her head slightly, seeing Mr Abercrombie walking beside her, his phone tucked away.

He was wearing a skinny black tie with his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing his broad forearms. He was a very fine specimen, so his concern, which seemed genuine, confused Darcy. In her experience, no man that beautiful needed to be kind, especially not a lawyer.

He seemed older than her, by ten or more years. She hadn’t seen him around in her short stint at the company. She would have remembered him.

“Weren’t you listening? I was fired,” she retorted.

She’d been fighting off her anxiety the entire time. It was the week after Thanksgiving and now she had no job. The tempting she’d been doing was in short supply this time of year, and she didn’t know when she’d next get paid. Her roommate was going to kill her and sell her body’s organs to cover the rent, obviously.

“What happened? I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding,” he said, and Darcy stopped abruptly, her shoes squeaking on the tiled floor.

“Don’t worry, I’m not about to sue for sexual harassment,” she muttered, and his brow creased further. She sighed. “I won’t disturb the boys’ club –”

“Hold on a second,” he said, putting up a hand, and Darcy stopped, raising a brow. “Just – what’s your name?”

“Darcy,” she replied, feeling herself blush a little. His stare was intense, too steady for what she was used to. “Darcy Lewis.”

“Miss Lewis, please tell me what happened,” he said, and Darcy glanced upward.

She was acting petulant, unprofessional. She had no intention of working here after what happened anyway, so she didn’t see the point of holding back.

“Bob Alec. He cornered me in the break room again and I said no,” Darcy said, feeling her blush intensify, recalling the incident.

He’d hushed her when she’d tried to pull away from him, telling her ‘it’s okay, it’s okay’. Darcy looked away to steady herself, feeling nauseous and afraid.

“Look, I don’t want him to call me up after this and threaten to come find me,” she added hastily, and the man frowned at her.

“Alec on fifth?” he said, and she nodded. He took out his phone, and Darcy watched him tap out a few numbers and put it to his ear.

She glanced around, hearing pieces of his conversation, watching the people arriving and exciting the building. Some glanced their way, perhaps recognising this guy she was standing with.

He straightened a little at one point and Darcy stared at him, her arms sore now. She readjusted the box, huffing.

“Get him outta there,” she heard him say, and Darcy froze, eyes widening. “Tell him to pack his desk up and leave immediately, or I’ll call security myself.”

He didn’t sound entitled, yet he was authoritative enough for Darcy to believe him, and once he hung up, she kept staring at him, unsure of what to say.

“I am sorry about that,” he said.

“Uh, thanks? I guess?” Darcy said. “You didn’t have to fire him.”

Saying that out loud sounded a little nuts, considering Bob had just told her to leave for not sleeping with him.

“He’s not going to bother you after this, Miss Lewis,” he said, and Darcy found herself nodding, believing him.

“Who… are you?” she said, and he let his eyes wander away before they swung back, pinning her there.

“Steve Rogers,” he said, and he offered her a hand.

Darcy adjusted her box so it was on her hip, taking his hand to shake it. It took another couple seconds for the name to actually sink in, and her eyes bulged.

“As in, Rogers of Stark Rogers Fury?” she blurted, and he nodded.

He was one of the partners of the firm. Darcy hadn’t done a lot of research about this gig, but the name stuck out. Darcy didn’t know what else to say, Steve pulling in a breath and assessing her again, eyes drifting down to her scuffed knee.

“Jesus, I thought I was seeing things in the elevator.”

“It’s nothing,” Darcy dismissed. “Bob –”

“He _pushed_ you?” Steve cut in, and Darcy saw the flash of outrage in his blue eyes.

“No, I tripped – look, I need to get out of here,” Darcy said, feeling self-conscious. “I wanna leave so I can go home and try to find another job. Sorry.”

She turned her heel, heading toward the rotating glass doors, slipping inside the capsule, only to have Steve follow her.

“Let me call you a cab at least,” he said, when they were out in the open Manhattan air.

The breeze was biting, and Darcy hadn’t unfurled her coat to put on. She shivered, glancing over her shoulder at him.

“Thank you for your help, sir, but –”

“I don’t want there to be only bad impressions of our firm,” Steve said, attempting a kind smile, reaching out to put his hands on Darcy’s cardboard box. “This your ficus?”

Darcy paused. “Yes. I mean, no. I stole it.”

He broke into a grin and Darcy liked it a little too much, seeing the dimples in his cheeks, his teeth so perfectly white and straight. She smirked, unable to help herself, and his eyes fell to her mouth.

“Your gap…”

“Yeah, I’ve had it since I was little,” Darcy murmured, pressing her lips together a couple times, feeling strange.

She knew it was because he was handsome that she was letting him get away with paying her this much attention. She didn’t see a ring on his finger, wondering a little too much about why that was the case.

“Sorry, does pointing it out make you self-conscious?” he murmured.

His hands were holding the box now, the tone of his voice making Darcy’s stomach warm. His masculinity felt overpowering to her, and she hadn’t expected any of this today. She thought she’d be dragging her feet to the subway station after 6 and heating up some Tupperware to watch some Netflix on the couch, counting down the hours until Friday night.

It was Tuesday, barely after noon, and now she saw the week stretching out ahead of her in a daunting away.

“I… uh,” Darcy whispered. “I should go.”

“I’ll get you a cab,” he said, and Darcy found herself nodding.

They walked over to the curb, Steve’s hand raising to signal a taxi, one pulling up within ten seconds like a fucking magic trick. He turned to her when it arrived, pulling the door open for her, giving her a half smile as he looked down into her eyes.

“Unless you wanna get lunch?”

Darcy blinked up at him.

-

Darcy had dated a couple rich guys in college. They were from another planet, where they could move at their own leisure and they never had to worry. Darcy was distinctly the opposite, always suspicious of good things. She didn’t trust that she was causing some type of itch Steve meant to scratch.

A lot of these older guys were downright nasty, from the amount of experience they’d had. They knew what they wanted and were distinct in their warped tastes.

She had no other plans and she hadn’t eaten, so she didn’t see any harm in letting him walk her down the street, carrying her box with ease as they weaved through the people to reach the edge of Central Park, where a hotdog truck stood.

He wasn’t above eating street food, which Darcy took as a good sign. He ordered them both a hotdog, all Darcy had to do was saying what she wanted. He didn’t even wait for her ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ before he nodded, understanding.

They sat on a bench together, the ficus between them as they ate. Darcy was thankful, if a little confused, that any of this was happening.

“I could put in a word for you, at another firm,” Steve said, breaking their silence.

Darcy had been watching a pigeon and glanced his way, blinking at him.

“Yeah, that’d be – I mean, thanks,” she murmured, and he gave that half-smile again.

He was so cute, in a way that almost hurt. It was unfair and confusing that he was this close to her, feeling compelled to rescue her like he had. Darcy was waiting for the other foot to drop.

“You don’t sound too excited,” he said. “I don’t really blame you –”

“It’s just,” Darcy began. “I… I’m not great at the whole office thing. I’m okay with being told what to do, I can be a good worker, I’m just not great at the corporate crap. No offense.”

“None taken,” Steve said, watching her go in for another bite, putting a thumb to his lips to suck ketchup off. He licked his lips. “What would you rather do?”

Darcy let out a half-laugh lacking warmth. “I… don’t know. And it’s so stupid.”

“That’s not stupid, you’re young,” he said, and Darcy shook her head.

“I think it’s easier for me to say what I don’t want to do, rather than what I do,” she muttered. “And every few weeks I’ll get a call from my mom, asking me where I’m at, and it’s never good news for her to hear.”

“Parents’ll always worry,” Steve said.

“Yeah, but. I think I’m the messed up kid, out of the three. It’s like, my designation,” she said.

He didn’t need to know all this, but she figured it would do little harm for him to hear it. Most likely, she’d never see him again. If he got her another job, she’d send him a thank you email his secretary would read, and that would be it.

“You always wanted to be a lawyer?” Darcy asked, really letting herself commit, eyes snapping to his.

He stared back at her, blinking once. “No. Not at all.”

“Hmm,” she murmured, leaning back a little in her seat. “Tell me more.”

He smirked. “I was in the Army. And art school. Couldn’t make up my mind.”

“So law was the obvious choice,” Darcy said, narrowing her eyes, turning a little to lean on her elbow, assessing him. “What kind of art?”

“Drawing. Illustration,” he said.

She couldn’t picture him holding a pencil and sketch pad, at least, not at a distance. Up close, with those eyes and long lashes that framed them, she somehow could.

“What about you?” he said, shifting gears. “You went to college?”

“I have a Bachelors in Political Science,” Darcy said.

His brows lifted. “No, shit. Well, if you went to law school –”

Darcy passed a hand over her face. “Please, don’t. You sound like my dad.”

He stopped, smiling again. Too handsome. Too inviting.

“Yeah, sorry,” he said.

She wasn’t looking forward to having to explain this whole thing to her father. At least with her mom, it was an unspoken rule that he wasn’t involved in a lot of the phone conversations, though Darcy suspected he was listening on speaker a lot of the time, probably rolling his eyes and sighing before retreating to the living room with a beer to watch TV and contemplate why his youngest child just couldn’t get her act together.

Darcy felt a roll of something, probably dread and the anticipation of pain. She glanced down at her hot dog, chewing and swallowing. She shook her head.

“I mean, it makes sense,” she said, raising her voice a little, clearing her throat. “If I went to law school, I’d put it to good use. Maybe work as a public servant.”

“But you don’t know if you want that?”

“No,” Darcy admitted, a little relieved she didn’t have to lie. “Not even a little.”

The next silence between them didn’t feel awkward, and it was filled with the people passing by. Darcy finished her food and got up, moving toward the trash can to throw her used napkin away, anticipating this was where she’d leave him, readying herself for a goodbye.

“Darcy.”

Her eyes swung to his, and she could see he was looking at her differently, for the first time a little hesitancy in his tone. He leaned on his knees, looking up at her, his own napkin in his balled fist.

“How much is rent?”

“What do you mean?” Darcy immediately threw back, and his eyes went to her scuffed knee again.

Her coat wasn’t buttoned shut so he was still able to see it as she stood in front of him, her hands shoved into her pockets.

“I want to cover your rent,” he said.

“Because of Bob?”

Steve’s lips parted and he took a second to form more words, as if he’d forgotten about Bob Alec. He gave short breath of a laugh.

“Uh, no. I meant because I want to…”

He drew in a breath, standing up now, towering over her. Darcy remained very still, her stomach flipping.

“I want to take care of you,” he said on exhale.

Darcy knew he was serious, and she knew it also wouldn’t be that much money to him, if he was the person he claimed to be. He made her rent in only minutes, if she bothered to calculate his salary properly. She licked her lips, feeling her face redden once more.

“That’s too much.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ve done this before.”

“What, like, charity?” she said, nose scrunching.

“No,” he murmured.

It took a few seconds to register, and then Darcy was ducking her gaze, so embarrassed by her own naiveté. He was talking about arrangements men had with young women – what she’d only heard about in passing online, outrageous tales that made her think it was so unbelievable.

“I… I don’t think I can look at you anymore,” Darcy babbled, moving to grab her box.

“I’m sorry, I was probably being too forward,” Steve said, and Darcy looked at him, seeing he wasn’t embarrassed, or angry.

He put a hand in his pocket, pulling out a card, and Darcy stared down at it for a few seconds.

“If you want a reference or a job somewhere else,” he said.

He was holding it between his middle and forefinger and Darcy took it, shoving it in her box. She scooped it up.

“Thanks, for lunch,” she said. “Really.”

“No problem,” he murmured.

She hightailed it out of there, not waiting for him to get her another cab. She’d walk all the way home if she had to, just to walk off the feelings that had taken over her.


	2. ii. Daddy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, thank you so much for reading this so far. so many comments! thank you, thank you, thank you

_I'm glad I came here_  
_With your pound of flesh_  
_No second billing 'cause you're a star now_  
_Oh, Cinderella_  
_They aren't sluts like you_  
_Beautiful garbage beautiful dresses_  
_Can you stand up or will you_  
_Just fall down_  
**\- Celebrity Skin by Hole**

**ii. Daddy**

Darcy didn’t find a way to explain to her roommate Jane anything that had happened that afternoon, so instead she lied about beating her home – her boss Bob was feeling flirty and Darcy was able to convince him she could go home early.

The irony behind that would only be appreciated by Steve Rogers, she thought, as she took a long piece of tinsel and began to drape it around the tree she and Jane had put up. Darcy meant to do this on the weekend, but she didn’t care about being early anymore for Christmas if it meant her feeling an ounce of good things, materialistic as they were.

“You’re way too into Christmas for a Jew,” Jane said, smirking as she placed a silver bauble on a branch.

She said it every year. She made fun of Darcy’s enthusiasm for shiny, happy things, when deep down they both knew Jane was the same. She just didn’t like to admit it. Darcy was more open to the cringe-worthy stuff, whereas Jane pretended taste meant something in this day and age. Picking up another long train of tinsel, Darcy retorted like she always did:

“Half-Jew. And you’re one to talk.”

Jane had already eaten her fair share of Starbucks Christmas cookies, bringing home several for Darcy in some attempt to justify it. She got them in obsessive abundance every year, and Darcy was sure she hid them at work. Jane worked as a receptionist for a dentist, and he always scolded her sugar habit, but Jane had perfect teeth and a high metabolism. Darcy would hate that about Jane if she didn’t love her so damn much.

Jane picked up a snowman-shaped cookie and bit its top hat off, rolling her eyes.

Darcy did her best to try to keep her firing under wraps but Jane was too nosy, seeing her scrolling through job ads on her phone while they sat on the couch together. Darcy pushed up her glasses self-consciously, frowning a little at Jane.

“What? I hate my job. I’m looking for other options.”

“Maybe Macy’s will take you as one of those seasonal wrappers,” Jane murmured.

The TV was on, playing _Elf_ because Darcy had fully committed to Christmas, but neither of them were watching it. Jane was typing on her laptop, working on an assignment. She was into her second year of her Master’s degree and Darcy’s parents liked to ask about it, probably to try to inspire Darcy to go back to school.

“I know you’re joking but I would totally do that,” Darcy said. “I already checked, they’re up to their ears in workers already.”

“I’d rather jump in front of the L train,” Jane muttered under her breath. “I think they pump Zoloft into the air in those stores this time of year. Everyone there’s a psychopath.”

Darcy felt her lips quirk. “I think you need to look up ‘psychopathy’ again, Jane…”

She thought of Steve Rogers again, remembering she’d left his card in her room, hiding the stolen ficus in her closet along with her folder and stack of copy paper. She hadn’t owned anything she took home, now that she thought about it. She probably should stop doing that, stealing from jobs, but it was more fun to keep something from every little failure so her possessions became a catalog of all her past jobs. The Museum of Darcy Lewis’s Employment, she thought, getting up from her seat on the couch.

She went to her room, plucking the card from within the box. She rummaged through it once more to find the little panda eraser she’d swiped from a woman on fifth who’d only ever managed to call her Dana for the last three weeks.

She walked back out to Jane, handing it to her.

“For you.”

“Oh, cute,” Jane murmured. “Thanks.”

“That’s your Christmas present covered, then,” Darcy joked, and Jane scrunched her nose.

“Thanks,” she said again, drier. “What do you want, anyway?”

“Literally nothing, I just want money,” Darcy said, flopping down with the card and her phone out again, drawing her knees up.

“What _money_ am I supposed to give you?” Jane said, laughing a little. 

Darcy shrugged, knowing exactly how she felt. She hoped her guilt hadn’t shown on her face as she remembered her day all over again. She glanced down at the card, reading it again. She’d been staring at it on the train home.

It was white, with black embossed font, the Stark Rogers Fury in the right-hand corner.

**_Steven ROGERS_ **

**_Partner_ **

It was so understated, Darcy supposed his name and title spoke for itself. She bit her lip, opening up her emails on her phone.

“I fucking love this movie,” Jane whispered to herself.

Darcy knew Steve wasn’t going to read what she wrote, so the pressure was off to make it sound any type of way. She just had to send him something to acknowledge she needed a favour and then maybe the wheels would start turning again.

**_To Mr Rogers_ **

**_I hope this email finds you well during this especially busy time of year._ **

**_Thank you again for the opportunity to transfer myself to another branch. I have attached my resume with appropriate references with my updated contact information._ **

**_I hope to hear from you shortly and Happy Holidays._ **

**_Darcy Lewis_ **

Darcy always hated that opener – _I hope this email finds you well_ – because whenever she read an email with that line, it was never when she was in a good headspace. She felt like such an asshole but knew she had to act as if she had a shred of professionalism to her in case he’d changed his mind about helping her out.

She thought about the other stuff, him offering her money, and she’d begun to believe she’d made it up, the ideas she’d got. He’d helped other people in the past – from what she barely knew about the company, they did a lot of charity fundraisers among other things.

He said it _wasn’t_ charity though. So was it a sex thing? Did he expect her to do something for the money? Darcy had heard about sugar babies, all the wild YouTube storytimes that never sounded real. Girls showing off purchases their daddies made, like luxury handbags and clothes. They dripped in diamonds and glowed from within. They were incandescently happy to be spoiled, but Darcy couldn’t picture herself doing it. She couldn’t pretend she liked spending time with some Hugh Hefner asshole.

Darcy knew Steve was different. He was under 40, for one thing. He was also the most handsome person Darcy had ever seen in-person, probably.

Darcy knew he ticked off several boxes without effort. He was smart, employed, nice enough to make sure she was safe. The bar was so low, now that she thought about it.

She stared at the TV screen as she pondered all this, elbow leaning on the arm of the couch, gnawing at her lip and not really watching the movie. Her phone buzzed and she glanced down, seeing a text from an unknown number pop up.

**_Hi Darcy. It’s Steve Rogers. Thanks for emailing me._ **

Darcy remembered her cell phone number was on her resume. She hadn’t expected him to check his own emails. She assumed he had at least one assistant.

**_No problem. I’m very thankful for your help today._ **

She found herself hoping for more. A part of her had perked up, and she sat up a little in her spot, waiting only another thirty seconds before he replied _again_ , her stomach somersaulting for the first time.

**_How are you?_ **

Darcy typed back as fast as possible, not caring about her enthusiasm showing. He didn’t seem eager to hang back like other guys.

**_I put up my Christmas tree to cope with my sudden unemployment_ **

Again, she didn’t care about him knowing about her anxieties, which was foreign as fuck.

Her fired back: **_Show me_**

Darcy stood up, putting her phone up to take a picture, showing the full scope of the lights and decorations. She sent the picture and he replied almost immediately.

**_Beautiful_ **

Darcy stared at the message, wondering what else to say. This might be all they said to each other, unless he meant what he said. Maybe he’d back away, because of how fast she’d ran from him at Central Park. Darcy saw the bubbles appear, indicating he was typing something back.

**_Would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow?_ **

“Who are you texting?” Jane said, cutting through Darcy’s reverie. “You’re blushing.”

“A guy from work,” Darcy blurted, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

She knew she was getting worked up from a few texts alone. So Steve was still more than willing to shoot his shot. Good for him, she thought.

It still unsettled her a little, in a thrilling kind of way. In a way that had her quietly getting herself off later that night when she went to bed, after she came up with the perfect response she hoped would tap into something Steve would appreciate.

**_Yes, please_ **

-

The restaurant was at the top of a high-rise building in Manhattan that Darcy had walked past a thousand times and never went inside. She didn’t know what it was, and had always assumed it was full of Wall Street guys or other things Darcy didn’t care to know about.

She knew she didn’t belong there. Any restaurant that required a dress code was absolutely not Darcy’s scene. It was elitist and shitty for people to demand their patrons didn’t wear flip flops. Sure, no shirt, no service was reasonable – but Darcy didn’t like Googling the restaurant that morning to find out men were _required to wear ties_ to enter the premises.

She wore the same skirt as yesterday, with a blouse she’d manage to steam correctly instead of throwing a sweater over it to cover the wrinkles. She put on hoop earrings and did her usual winged eyeliner, adding a bold red lip she kept checking in her front-facing camera of her phone on the train over to Manhattan.

She was nervous. She didn’t know what Steve wanted, because instincts were telling her this wasn’t just a date. Maybe he wanted to explain himself. Darcy had plenty of time to think, but her mind was back and forth about everything. She knew Jane would be horrified by a lot of this, if she had any inkling Darcy could agree to some type of arrangement.

In the elevator up, Darcy cracked her knuckles in her coat pocket, the man sharing the car with her glancing her way, frowning a little.

Did he know she was poor? She figured rich people smelt it from miles away. Darcy didn’t walk like someone with entitlement, either. She only felt comfortable at home, or the supermarket. Sometimes IKEA, because she loved picking things up and putting them down, imagining all the things she’d buy if she could afford to re-decorate their whole shitty apartment.

She departed on the eighteenth floor, feeling unsteady on her heels, which were a taller pair than yesterday. She tended to only wear boots, wedges or kitten heels because she didn’t like stumbling around like a newborn colt in public.

That morning as she’d got ready she’d made herself practice again, getting her coffee and trying to tame her hair and slather on makeup. It was one thing to be at home and another thing entirely, traipsing through to the restaurant’s entrance, stopping at the host’s station.

He wore a goddamn cummerbund and met Darcy’s gaze, before his eyes trailed down her, inspecting. Darcy’s jewellery was probably a little gauche. She remembered in high school, that old joke – _the bigger the hoop, the bigger the hoe_. She didn’t care about that, but she didn’t want to be turned away.

“I’m here for the Rogers party? Party of… two?” Darcy said, glancing behind him.

The décor was all velvet and deep tones, the chairs swathed in some type of silk covering. It reminded Darcy of Regency tea rooms. She didn’t see Steve anywhere.

“Darcy?” the host said, and she nodded.

“Yep, that’s me.”

“Right this way.”

He turned his heel and Darcy followed him, stepping onto the threshold and doing her best to walk briskly in her stupid shoes. She hated this – she should have worn her kitten heels, but she was trying to impress Steve. She couldn’t lie, he made her want to perform a little for him.

She felt her cheeks flush when she recognized him, sitting at a larger table alone by a window. He stood up, touching the larger portion of his tie as he straightened up, Darcy feeling wobbly as his eyes ducked to her legs for a second before they swung back up to her face.

He didn’t stare at her tits. Darcy felt an inexplicable disappointment, but it was soon remedied as the host gestured to the table, Steve moving toward her.

“Thank you, Tyler,” Steve said, and Darcy went still, the host departing.

Steve leaned down, pressing his cheek to hers in a half-kiss, his hand on her arm, and Darcy felt warm all over, not just her face. He drew back, warm eyes drinking her in.

“Hi,” he said, voice soft and low.

Jesus Christ, he was going to kill her. Darcy blinked up at him, a nervous giggle bubbling up.

“Hi.”

He moved to pull back the chair opposite his, and Darcy sat down, pressing her lips together as he pushed her chair in. He sat down opposite her, that fucking half-smile on his face again like yesterday.

“You want something to drink?” he asked, and Darcy’s lips parted.

“Uh…”

A waiter appeared out of nowhere, offering a leather bound menu, Darcy opening it and glancing down, not knowing what to do.

“What are you having?” she asked Steve, not looking at him.

She was stalling, wondering if she’d be laughed out of there for asking for a Dr Pepper.

“Nothing yet,” he murmured, and Darcy could get past how goddamn comfortable he was compared to her.

She bit her lip, letting it go.

“Uh… beer?” she said, unsure, glancing up at the waiter.

He didn’t judge, only began to list off options. When none of the names registered to Darcy, the waiter added, in a lower voice:

“Mr Rogers is partial to Heineken.”

Darcy did know that name, but noted it wasn’t on the menu.

“Okay, I’ll have that.”

“Excellent choice,” the waiter said, taking the menu back, and he departed.

Darcy allowed herself to look at Steve again, drawing in a breath. He smiled a little wider.

“You okay?”

“Uh, I feel… weird, to be honest,” Darcy said, glancing around.

The tables were all so spaced out, the entire floor had to be the restaurant. She knew there was smoking room somewhere, all leather couches and cigars with whiskey. She didn’t belong there. She didn’t know if this was Steve’s attempt to impress her, because she didn’t think she gave off a vibe of being interested in this type of upper class New Yorker crap.

“Sorry,” she added.

“Don’t be,” Steve said.

His eyes fell to her hands that she hand gripping the edge of the table. He leaned over, Darcy’s heart skipping a beat, her eyes widening slightly.

“Can I hold your hand?” he asked, and Darcy nodded, offering it palm up.

He held her right between his two.

“So,” Darcy said. “I… have questions.”

“Shoot,” Steve said.

The waiter returned at that moment, their beers in two tall glasses, bubbling as he set them down. They looked like something from a Superbowl commercial, perfectly poured, identical in foam portions. Darcy stared at hers, licking her lips.

“Have you decided what you’ll be having for lunch, sir?” the waiter offered, and Steve shook his head, once.

“We’ll need a few minutes.”

One of his hands enveloping hers flexed and the waiter nodded, turning their heel. Steve’s eyes met hers once more. He was really into eye contact.

“I like the ravioli here,” Steve said, and Darcy nodded.

“I’ll get that.”

He gave a short chuckle. He waited a couple seconds. “What did you want to ask me?”

“I… didn’t misread yesterday, right?” she said, voice lowered. She swallowed, glancing away to fortify herself. The skyline view was wasted on her due to her nerves.

Steve blinked, a kind smile forming. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What you… offered,” she went on. It was like she was talking in code, it was so convoluted. “Is it a sex thing?”

“Doesn’t have to be,” he said immediately, like he’d said it before. “Not if you don’t want that.”

“You’d… give me money and things, and you’re not expecting me to have sex with you?” Darcy said, her face burning now. “Wouldn’t you want that?”

He looked away, grinning at the view before he turned his head back.

“I mean, _would_ you want that?” Darcy amended.

“I very much want that,” Steve said.

Darcy felt like she’d slipped into some alternate universe. She’d fallen through a crack in the sidewalk and landed in a world where men like Steve Rogers with seven figure salaries took time out of their day to give her attention. There was no hint of irony to his tone.

“You’ve known me five minutes,” Darcy retorted, because it was absurd.

Everything about this was so strange, she couldn’t believe it. She began to stammer.

“Is this, like, a rich people thing where you bring me to a party with a bunch of other poor bimbos that you make fun of with your buddies?”

Steve shook his head. “In my defense, I’ve known you at least twelve hours.”

“But you’re willing to… have me as a kept… woman or something?”

“No,” Steve said, shaking his head again. “I would want you to have your own life, your own choices. It’s not really about me.”

How was this not about him? It was his money. His hands on hers. Darcy stared at him, unsure of what to say.

“I’m trained to argue, Darcy,” he said, when she couldn’t form a sentence for a good minute.

“Yeah, I got that,” she muttered.

The waiter appeared and Steve ordered for them both. The ravioli did sound good, but Darcy wasn’t sure if she could stomach anything right now.

“What I would get out of this,” Steve began, breaking their silence.

He was staring at their hands together.

“I need someone to take to my holiday events this year. I don’t wanna do stag again.”

His Brooklyn accent was coming and going, which Darcy found herself wanting to catch more and more. She’d never found that charming before. Her eyes went to his mouth, that full lower lip.

“Like a fake girlfriend?” she said.

His lips curled into a wry smile. “Yeah, something like that.”

“While on the side, I’m your sugar baby?” she added, and he nodded. “But you’re not expecting sex from me… at all?”

“No, it would be totally inappropriate for me to demand that from you,” he said, and Darcy blinked at him.

Darcy glanced away again, mulling this over. He could be telling the truth. He could also be lying, just to get her to agree to something later. He was a lawyer after all, primed for manipulating her. Plenty of men could be charming until they didn’t have to be anymore.

“How do I know this isn’t a trick?” Darcy said, after she took a deep breath.

She exhaled, watching his face for a reaction.

“The trick is you having to deal with me during the holidays, when you’d otherwise have your own plans,” he said.

Darcy snorted, very unladylike. “I never see my folks during the holidays. It’s a fucking nightmare.”

Steve’s lips quirked. “Alright. You don’t have to say yes to anything yet. Just think about it.”

They separated once their food arrived and Darcy tucked in, knowing it was probably the best meal she’d had in years, except for Chipotle when she was drunk, but that was different.

As Darcy chewed, polishing off her plate, she picked up her beer to take another sip, their eyes meeting.

“So, the sex stuff,” she murmured, and Steve paused.

“Yeah?”

“Do you like girls calling you ‘Daddy’ and stuff like that?”

His brows lifted ever so slightly. Even if he was about to tell her otherwise, she’d tapped into something. He liked the idea, or elements of it. Darcy licked her lips, leaning forward a little, going back for another sip of beer.

“Do you want to call me Daddy?” he asked.

“I dunno,” Darcy admitted.

She knew she was blushing. She felt like that was all she’d done the entire lunch. She’d thought about it before, many times, because if she was honest with herself she knew there was some of this that turned her on. He was older, and Darcy had always liked older men, even when she was little. She knew it wasn’t appropriate at the time, and she was meant to like boys her age, but never once had she found guys her age undeniably sexy like older men were to her. Maybe something was broken in her brain, the wires crossed or something, but Darcy would call him that if he asked her to.

“You can call me ‘baby’, though,” Darcy said, finally looking down again. “If you want. I like… nicknames and stuff. Makes me feel…”

She sighed.

“Special, I guess.”

“Okay,” he murmured.

He paid for lunch by signing a piece of paper. Darcy assumed he was on a tab or something like that. They knew he was good for it. He put Darcy’s coat on her shoulders and they walked out together, sharing the elevator.

He got her a cab when they walked out into the sun. Darcy turned to him when he opened the backseat door for her, and her stomach flipped again.

The situation was ludicrous but she’d let herself believe he was attracted to her, since he looked at her that way, intentionally. He offered another half-smile, Darcy melting.

“I’ll call you,” she said.

She would. She wanted to. There was no harm in that.

“My assistant passed on your details to some contacts,” he said with a little nod.

They were in a more public place, and maybe he wasn’t going to address the arrangement. Darcy moved toward him, leaning up to kiss his cheek, on the corner of his mouth. When she pulled back, his eyes had changed. Maybe it was the ghost of a real kiss that spurred him on, since he took hold of her arm and went in for another, right on the lips.

Darcy froze, closing her eyes belatedly, her bottom lip caught between his two. His hand transferred to her jaw, thumb rubbing across her cheek. His hands were huge. She pictured them in other places, his mouth moving against hers.

They broke apart.

“Good to see you,” he mumbled into her mouth, and Darcy nodded, swallowing.

“Yeah,” she breathed.

She slipped into the taxi. The door shut beside her and she heard Steve give the roof a couple knocks, the car peeling away from the curb. Darcy let out a shaky breath, feeling so wound tight, her heart hammering in her chest.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [beer beer beer (and those FRECKLES)](https://chris-evans.net/photos/displayimage.php?album=736&pid=47740#top_display_media) for your troubles
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	3. iii. That Was Fun For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have some more my sweets

_You got that good good, baby, don't you?_  
_Got that good good, baby, don't you?_  
_But you leavin' solo_  
_Ain't regular, that ain't regular_  
**\- "Motivation" by Normani**

**iii. That Was Fun For You**

“Jane -!”

The door slammed in Darcy’s face, cutting her off. She leaned against the frame with both hands, glancing down at the doorknob, hearing Jane lock it.

“You can’t act like you’re in the seventh grade, this shit has consequences,” Jane snapped, beyond the door, before Darcy could explain. “You owe me more than seven hundred dollars already.”

That was true, and Darcy had been feeling guilty about missing last month’s rent because she was in-between jobs, but then the new temp position came in and it seemed like things could settle. The day after she had lunch with Steve, she’d hidden in her room when Jane left in a hurry that morning. When she got home from work, it was clear Darcy hadn’t left all day. Now, Jane had done what Darcy predicted, and lost all sense of composure because Darcy had lost another job.

“You’re not gonna listen to what I have to say?” Darcy said.

She didn’t want to talk about it. Any of this was going to make her run and hide, even though Jane was her closest friend. She didn’t like thinking about unpleasant things or recalling them. She’d rather pretend she was untouchable, though she so obviously wasn’t. A part of her wished she was a little less worried about what Jane thought of her.

“No,” Jane retorted, stubborn, but Darcy knew she would.

“My boss, he – he tried to start something and I turned him down. He didn’t take it well–”

The last word was barely out of her mouth before the door was wrenched open again and Jane was glaring at her, but the outrage wasn’t directed toward Darcy this time.

“Did he -?”

“No, nothing happened, but he told me it wasn’t going to work out,” Darcy said, gaze dropping to the floor.

She could remember him cornering her, how her brain was rapidly putting the pieces together, recognizing his intent, the panic that rose up. She hated that at the time, she’d considered letting him touch her wherever he wanted. It was a fleeting thing, but she remembered it nonetheless. She didn’t know her sense of self-preservation could plummet that fast.

Jane caught her in a hug, which Darcy hadn’t expected for whatever reason. Her brain had only gone so far as to imagine Jane being upset with her, not upset with Bob Alec.

“You could sue,” Jane said, when they broke apart. “Brunn, she –”

“Just because Brunnhilde is a law student, it doesn’t mean she’s a lawyer,” Darcy said, not for the first time.

Jane’s friend from Culver had been a fun companion at parties over the last few years, but never had Darcy let the woman take over any part of her life. She still appreciated the thought every time.

“You know she’d be open to destroying him physically as well as psychologically,” Jane went on, and Darcy gave a short chuckle.

Standing in the cramped hallway together, Darcy didn’t know whether to add the rest, everything that had happened with Steve. It might be too much for Jane to handle, on top of all this. Yet she knew if she asked for the money she needed for rent, as well as what she owed Jane, Steve would be happy to send it to her.

“The guy I was texting, from work,” Darcy finally said, when the silence had stretched on too long for her. “He said he’s going to pass on my resume for me. He’s got some influence.”

Jane seemed a little suspicious, but she wasn’t going to ask anything else. That might come later, and she’d spring a damning question on Darcy when she least expected it. Darcy drew back, giving a little shrug.

“And I think he’s reliable,” she added.

“Who is he?” Jane asked, almost cutting Darcy off in the process.

“Steve Rogers, he’s a partner.”

“How did you meet him?”

“We worked in the same building,” Darcy replied, somewhat defensive.

Perhaps it was pure projection, but she didn’t appreciate Jane’s tone. It was giving voice to all her suspicions, like this was some long con of Steve’s and Darcy would be sorry she ever let herself believe she was worthy of all his attention.

As if on cue, her phone began to buzz from the kitchen bench and Darcy walked off, picking it up to see a message from Steve.

Her stomach fluttered. She hadn’t heard from him all day. She’d been too afraid to engage first, because she knew there was a chance he’d be busy. If she was too demanding, perhaps he’d back off. None of this felt like a sure thing, unlike what she just said to Jane.

The further she’d been away from Steve, the more time she’d had to doubt everything. She’d always disliked that about herself, the amount of time she spent overthinking everything all the time. It must make dating her insufferable.

**_How was your Thursday?_ **

Darcy began to type back immediately, trying to think of something clever or cute to say. She could fully commit, make this about him. She knew she had a wide range of possibilities, and she was trying to think several steps ahead. What if he wanted pictures, or a video? Darcy wasn’t opposed to that, she just didn’t think she photographed that well with her cell phone. She didn’t like looking like she tried too hard, either. She was probably in the wrong type of partnership, then. From what she’d learned over the last day at home, researching on her phone and laptop, was that sugar babies liked to have a reputation.

She recalled a veteran baby, a twenty one year-old that wore Lolita dresses when she spoke to her camera, holding a heart-shaped cushion, her doe-eyes commanding as she pointed with a taloned finger.

_“Remember that you are in charge. When he texts you, you let him wait. Dial it back. Make him want you. Make him know you come first.”_

Every instinct Darcy had told her otherwise. She wanted to do anything for him. She wanted all his attention, so she wanted to keep him talking.

She remembered their kiss again and felt her belly begin to heat. She kept replaying it, trying to remember it perfectly, and every time the same thought surfaced – it was a life-changing kiss, for something so simple. And every time that thought came back to her, Darcy knew it was insane.

She waited a few minutes, going back and forth. Be forward. Don’t lead him on. Be coy. Be yourself, whoever she fucking was.

**_Can I call you?_ **

She wanted to hear his voice. She wanted to melt and hear him say her name, hear that low rumble from his chest. The way he mumbled into her mouth when they kissed, that drove her wild. No man she’d known had this effect on her, and that was the sad truth.

 ** _Of course_** , he wrote back.

Darcy put her phone to her ear, walking briskly back down the hallway, avoiding Jane’s gaze before she slipped into her own bedroom, shutting the door behind her. He answered after a few rings, and Darcy spoke first, probably sounding too eager.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied. “I missed you.”

He missed her. He knew her only a few days and they’d kissed once and he missed her, and he wasn’t playing games, at least not yet. He missed her? The disbelief was overpowering, Darcy’s words getting stuck in her throat. She’d tried to think of something witty or flirty to say to him. It was her idea to call him, after all.

She didn’t say anything and she felt like a fool. She’d somehow forgotten how to speak, her mind still reeling. Darcy remembered some more sage advice from the veteran baby:

_“Tell him what you want.”_

If Darcy were to actually tell him what she wanted instead of holding back like she had any impulse control, she’d be blowing him right now. Apparently all he had to give her was a shred of attention. Darcy held her breath for several seconds, before she let it go.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I…”

(I want to suck your dick.)

“I want…”

(I want to. Suck. Your. Dick.)

“Um…”

“Sweetheart?”

That had her flushing, her eyes squeezing shut in an attempt to concentrate.

“I want money. I want the rent money I owe Jane.”

“You owe your roommate money?” Steve said, and Darcy made an affirming sound.

Darcy hated this. He didn’t need further evidence that she was a total disaster. She fumbled the words, leaning back until she was lying down on her mattress, passing a hand over her face.

“It’s seven hundred dollars,” she added. “Give or take.”

“Okay. I’d be happy to,” Steve replied.

What was seven hundred dollars to him? Maybe a couple ties. A belt? A nice pair of shoes he wore for work and then replaced the second it rained and the leather was compromised?

“Okay, thank you. I… thank you, Steve,” Darcy said.

He wasn’t a bank teller, why couldn’t she put more warmth in her voice? The moment was stretching and she couldn’t backpedal and double her efforts, show her gratitude.

“You’re welcome. I’ll need an account number or maybe you can email me again, to my personal one? It’s up to you whether you want to use a different service. Cash is fine, too. I think I have…”

She heard him rustling on his end, and she realized he was checking his wallet.

“I have nine hundred on me right now.”

“Jesus Christ,” Darcy whispered, out loud, before she could stop herself. “I have never in my life had nine hundred dollars in my wallet.”

She didn’t need to broadcast that she was poor. He’d already discerned that by the look of her. She didn’t need him feeling sorrier for her. She felt like she needed to say she’d pay him back, though of course she wouldn’t. That was the point of all this.

“So, what’s the first event you have?” Darcy said, shifting gears.

“It’s a charity gala for a toy drive,” Steve said.

Darcy sat up again. “Oh. That’s really nice.”

“Yeah, we do it every year,” Steve said. “Just a second, I’ll pull up the details…”

She heard a few clicks of a mouse and she frowned, pulling her phone away from her ear to check the time. Jane had come home after nine from studying late at Culver, and it sounded like Steve was still at work.

“Are you at the office right now?” Darcy asked.

Was it her business to know anything about his life? The babies online hadn’t indicated if it was standard to know a lot about their daddies. Darcy found herself wanting to know, a concern growing inside her.

“Yeah,” he said, with a slight chuckle. “Yep… I am at the office.”

“It’s after 9 o’clock,” Darcy said. “You should go home.”

“I will,” he said. “Soon. I just need to wrap up some things, figure out where the fuck – oh, there it is.”

Darcy felt her lips quirk, tummy flipping. She pictured his brows furrowing in concentration.

“Gala’s this Saturday, at the Jeph Loeb Center. 19th Street.”

Darcy had never had any reason to walk into the building before, but she knew it. The ceilings resembled a kaleidoscope, stained glass everywhere. It was very chic, and very not Darcy’s scene. She felt a flurry of nerves at the thought of going there with him, being around the types of people he worked with, the upper crusts.

“Okay. Sounds… good.”

“It’s black tie,” he added.

“Don’t worry, I’m not about to wear my Hello Kitty pajamas,” Darcy said, before feeling another wave of self-consciousness. He didn’t need to know about those, and how she dressed like a teenager still most of the time.

If it were about to her, Darcy would dress like a 12 year-old skater boy for the rest of her life.

Steve let out another little chuckle, Darcy’s face burning anew.

“I meant… if you wanted me to buy you a dress, I can.”

Darcy had some options in her closet already, and thinking about trying to find a whole new outfit in less than two days sounded terrifying to her, so she let out a little groan of reluctance.

“Um… no, that’s okay.”

She wasn’t doing anything by the sugar baby book, apparently. By this point, any other gal way savvier than her would have pulled up a wishlist and promptly sent Steve the link.

“Oh, the email,” Darcy said suddenly.

She put her phone between her shoulder and ear, flipping open her laptop, seeing it needed charging, before digging out the tangle of a charger cord from under her bed, flicking aside a dirty lone sock. She plugged it in, sighing a little.

“Is the dress code really lavish?” she asked. “Like, mink coats and diamonds?”

“I hope not,” Steve said. “I’m all fresh out of electrocuted weasels.”

Something about his evident disgust for furs made Darcy feel a little better. She remembered the hotdogs they ate at the park, too, and how Steve drank a cheaper brand of beer at that restaurant.

“Noted,” Darcy murmured.

He’d sent her an email, and she began to type out her banking details. Her heart began to hammer as she hovered her mouse over the Send banner, biting her lip.

“It won’t be clashing with any plans you have?” Steve said, and it felt sudden to Darcy, since she’d been staring at her laptop with the silence drawing out.

“Nope.”

“Your family won’t miss you a lot?”

Darcy scoffed. “I told you, I never see them during the holidays.”

She didn’t see them, period. It was better that way, less drama, less shouting. Darcy knew they weren’t entirely to blame for all the shit that always went down, they seemed to press each other’s buttons. Except it always felt like four against one, and Darcy always lost.

“I… don’t like my family,” she said slowly, carefully.

She was sugar-coating it. She was the definition of a black sheep among the Lewis clan. She’d always been disappointing to her parents. She frequently wondered about whether they regretted having a third child when their first two were practically perfect. They’d got it right twice, and their third time had only ever caused headaches.

“My brother’s a surgeon,” she went on. “He’s married, he’s already had a couple kids. My sister works in finance and she’s got this supermodel fiancé. My mom and dad spend all their energy on them, I think because they don’t want to hear about how I’m really doing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Steve said, and she had to believe he meant that. “It’s their loss.”

Darcy tried to believe that. It’s what Jane told her whenever she heard from her folks. She made a non-committal sound and finally pressed Send.

Darcy’s phone chirped with an alert almost instantaneously, but Darcy’s perception may have been off. She was probably zoning out again, glum and suddenly feeling so tired.

He’d sent her two thousand dollars.

“Steve, that’s too much,” Darcy said.

Another rule broken. She was never supposed to complain, because then he’d adjust his spending on her. She was meant to take whatever he gave, that was the point of their arrangement.

“It’s not,” he said, easy and calm.

Darcy cleared her throat. “What about you? What’s your family like?”

There was another shuffle of papers.

“My family was just me and my Ma growing up,” he murmured. “But she passed a while back.”

Darcy felt her heart sink. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. And you have to hear me bitching about my family…”

“No, it’s – it’s alright, sweetheart. It happened a long time ago,” he said, cutting through her little whines.

“I like my sister. She’s always nice to me, except – well, she’s just so fucking perfect, I don’t know,” Darcy said. “She’s like me but… better. I’m like Hannah 2.0 but somehow worse.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Steve said. “You’re beautiful, and smart. And so far you’ve been indulging me, which I’m thankful for.”

His compliments made her feel like he was talking about someone else, someone Darcy didn’t know at all. He hadn’t been around her long enough to see every flaw, maybe. It was only a matter of time before he saw too much of her.

“What do you want for Christmas?” he asked, cutting through her inner monologue.

Darcy scoffed again. “God. Don’t get me anything.”

“What, it’s December now, I’m supposed to ask,” he said, laughing a little more than earlier.

The sound was so welcoming and warm that Darcy craved him more, wishing they were in the same room. She knew she’d be over at his place if he asked, probably ruining every part of their arrangement.

“Come on,” he said. “What do you want?”

Some fucking peace, Darcy thought, and she wondered where that came from. She wasn’t completely miserable. She’d had worse years. Last year, her boyfriend dumped her for his ex, after he realized he was still in love with her. Darcy had drunk too much spiked egg nog that Christmas, switching to straight brandy, and ended up with her head in the toilet for most of the next morning. She had no Christmas cheer to offer anyone. Not even Jane, who was with her parents in Florida, got a fake little response to a text.

“Bah, humbug,” Darcy retorted, and Steve chuckled.

“Alright. But I’ll keep asking.”

She hoped not. She didn’t want anything, that hadn’t been a lie she told Jane. She preferred buying presents for others, it meant she didn’t have to pretend she liked what she got. She was pretty good at finding cool presents, but it didn’t really outweigh her other qualities during the holidays.

Darcy looked around her room, seeing the mess, a dust bunny next to a bra. Her brush on her bedside table looked like one giant hairball with a stick attached to it. She bit her lip, thinking of her cheap fake pearls she’d probably wear to the gala.

“Can I ask,” she said, before actually thinking the question through. She stumbled. “C-Can I ask why I was someone you’d…?”

“Why I’d want you as a sugar baby?” Steve finished.

Hearing him say it was too bizarre. Darcy made a face, glad he couldn’t see her right now.

“Yeah.”

“I like you,” he said. “You’re really sweet, and fun to be around. I don’t have a lot of time to meet people. This tends to work for me.”

“So you’ve done this before?” Darcy said. She was aware of him saying he had, but he hadn’t gone into detail about it.

“Mm-hmm.”

“What were those girls like?” Darcy asked.

She wanted to know whether or not he still had relationships with them. It hadn’t occurred to her that she was perhaps one of a few on rotation, which was foolish on her part. In her defense, she had no fucking clue what she was doing, clearly.

“Students, friendships I made online,” Steve said. He didn’t seem defensive. “They lived in other cities. One actually was in Seoul, teaching English. It was nice, for a while.”

“But they… but they broke it off with you?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Eventually.”

She faltered, unsure of how to phrase more questions that were bubbling up. She drew in a breath.

“You wanna know whether we had sex,” Steve said, as if reading her.

“Yeah,” Darcy admitted, voice smaller. “Sorry, I’m… being nosy.”

“No, that’s fine, it’s understandable.”

Again, he wasn’t a bank teller. She was acting weird. They were two adults, and she was attracted to him. She should be better at speaking in whole sentences. Darcy’s brain had decided to slowly ooze out of her ears, probably due to the heat in her cheeks.

“I didn’t have sex with them in person.”

“So, like – phone stuff?” Darcy asked.

Stuff? Say the word, you fucking child, she thought. She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Sometimes.”

Darcy had never had phone sex before. She cleared her throat.

“And, like – nudes, too? Like, titty shots or whatever?”

(Fuck my life. Fuck my fucking life sideways with a cactus. Fuck.)

“Sometimes,” she heard him murmur.

His voice was practically a purr. She could feel it working on her, making her fidget in her seat, and she pushed her laptop aside, laying on her back, her heart hammering.

Everything thing about him made her whole body respond, like she’d never been truly aroused in all her life. That was absolutely batshit and really, really sad, if she let herself think about it for too long.

Her hand slid down her front and she waited for him to elaborate, to ask her for something. She popped the button on her jeans.

“And that was – that was fun for you?” Darcy asked.

What the fuck? Shut up. _Shut up_. She didn’t have to say everything that came into her head, especially when her hand was now in her underwear, rummaging around.

Darcy asked another question, before he could answer:

“Are you going home soon, or are you just telling me you will?”

“A bit of both,” he answered. It was a jokey thing to say but he sounded serious, voice low.

She wondered if there was some way he could tell she was touching herself right now, but she knew it was impossible.

“Are you going to bed soon?” he asked.

Darcy _gulped_.

“Uh, yeah. Soon.”

“You gonna, or are you just telling me you will?” he asked, and Darcy felt a spark of fresh desire at the base of her spine.

“I will,” she mumbled.

“Good girl.”

Holy shit. She sucked in a breath, rubbing herself.

“I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay, sweetheart,” he replied. “Have a good night.”

“You, too,” Darcy blurted.

She hung up, phone falling aside, and she was reaching over to her bedside table, grabbing her vibrator from the back of the top drawer, before pulling back her bed covers to slip under, scrambling in her haste to press the toy to her clit and switch it on.

She bit her pillow in an attempt to smother the sound, coming hard and fast, hips rolling as warmth bloomed from her core, reaching the very edges of her as she panted.

She switched it off, turning onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her phone buzzed on the floor and she reached for it, smelling her musk on her fingers, wiping them haphazardly on her shirt before she unlocked her phone.

Steve had messaged her.

**_I keep thinking about that kiss._ **

“Fuck,” Darcy whispered. She felt herself smile like a total goober.

**_Me, too_ **

She’d just come again, thinking about him. She felt a little braver, or stupid. Either/or, it didn’t matter too much. She sent before he replied:

**_Not clean thoughts either_ **

**_I hoped so_** , he replied.

Darcy, heart racing, feeling mischievous, picked up her vibrator and took a photo with her phone, sending it off to Steve.

It was clear from the picture that she’d already used it, by how it was marked with her arousal that glistened under the light of her bedroom lamp.

The grey bubble appeared, Darcy’s pulse rich, her breath held.

He sent several heart eyes emojis, making Darcy grin again. He typed some more, paused, and typed again.

**_Do it again for me?_ **

Holy shit. Darcy typed back:

**_What about you, Daddy?_ **

She waited for it to feel icky, but it didn’t. She’d fallen through the crack again, into the alternate universe. She bit her lip, waiting, before she lost patience and switched her vibrator back on, slipping it back under her blankets, turning onto her stomach again.

It took a little longer the second time, only because Darcy felt like she had an audience now. She saw spots when she finished, panting and sweating, shoving the toy aside and flopping on her back again, just as her phone had buzzed again.

She unlocked her phone, the reality of it all sinking in. She’d called him Daddy, and sent her that picture. She’d gone from one extreme to another. It might be too much –

Steve sent her a picture back. It was simply a shot of a used Kleenex, scrunched up in his huge hand.

Darcy’s mouth fell open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks directly into the camera* *sips martini and smacks lips*
> 
> WELL
> 
>   
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	4. iv. You're So Good To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a long chapter but I think you'll like it

_I like it when you take control_  
_Even if you know that you don't_  
_Own me, I'll let you play the role_  
_I'll be your animal_  
**\- "bad guy" by Billie Eilish**

**iv. You're So Good To Me**

“It’s, like, _in_ my line of sight.”

Darcy gestured to her face, blinking rapidly, huffing. Jane was lingering in the bathroom doorway, watching Darcy in the mirror as she had put on her false eyelashes. She hadn’t done this since high school, and she’d forgotten how weird it was. Last time, it was for a background character in the play and the audience needed to see her lashes from a distance. This was all for show, to make her look like a completely different version of herself.

Darcy spent the last two hours getting ready. Yesterday, she’d bought everything she needed at Sephora, plus some under things that were a nightmare to try on in the store. Darcy hated all of it, especially the hair removal. She felt like she’d been stripped raw of every follicle beneath her eyebrows. The reality was she wasn’t completely bald, but she may as well be compared to before, and she wondered if there was some other way to do it all, a less painful way that Steve could sponsor. He hadn’t asked for any of this, but Darcy still wanted to perform for him, look her best, and seem so put-together she’d be irresistible.

Every time she thought about Steve in the last couple days, she’d space out and feel her cheeks flush, a little spark of something deep within. If she thought about him too long, she knew her mind might make her chicken out and ruin everything. She kept scrolling back to the picture he sent her of his ginormous hand clutching the used Kleenex, staring at it for way too long. She knew she had a crush on Steve, that wasn’t something she’d deny.

“You look like you’ve grown wings on your face,” Jane said, her form of a compliment. “Where are you going, again?”

“The Stark Rogers Fury charity drive for underprivileged youths, with Steve Rogers,” Darcy said, leaning in to examine the eyelashes again, unsure of the placement.

She felt like another woman would clock her from a mile away, but she figured if she faked it hard enough she’d pull these things off. That seemed to be Darcy’s lot in life. She stood back, sighing a little, her hands slapping against her sides.

“I think that’s as good as it’s gonna get,” she muttered.

She spun around, tugging down the dry cleaning back that hung on the door, taking out her dress to examine it.

“Steve’s, like, _dirty_ rich, right?” Jane asked, and Darcy nodded vaguely.

She was pretty close to telling Jane everything, and she didn’t know why that was something she was wanting so badly to do. It helped no-one, especially her. She could picture the judgment on Jane’s face, probably some real fear to follow. She couldn’t blame her. She’d lived through so many of Darcy’s poor decisions in the last few years, and this might be one of the dumbest decisions of all, depending on how this night went. So, no pressure.

“Are you guys dating?” Jane asked.

“Yeah, but it’s casual,” Darcy said, with a little shrug. “We had lunch.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jane retorted, widening her eyes pointedly. “Bellissimo’s in Manhattan?”

She was trying to downplay it, the _eleganza_ spin of the Italian place making her feel a little self-conscious. She didn’t want Jane thinking that she was only after Steve’s money.

It was so bizarre, all the different convoluted layers to everything. She was after Steve’s money, but it was his to give to her. He also wanted her to pretend to be his girlfriend, but she was pretending to Jane like they weren’t that close, when she’d already sent him a picture of her wet vibrator, both of them admitting they’d jerked off to one another.

“The ravioli was nice,” Darcy murmured. “And the view was pretty cool.”

“Uh-huh,” Jane murmured. She watched as Darcy tugged on her dress over her head. “That might be too small.”

Darcy gave a little huff, tugging the satin down. Her tits barely fitted in it, but that was the problem with anything she wore, unless it was an oversized men’s t-shirt. The dress itself was worn many times over the last few years, and it was a classic enough style to stand the test of time.

“That’s the cigarette burn one, huh?” Jane said, and Darcy shot her a look.

“Don’t. And it’s not a cigarette burn, it’s a… joint burn,” she muttered, glancing down.

It was barely detectable if she managed to keep her hand hovering above it most of the night. If she placed her clutch across it no-one would be the wiser. The dress was a deep maroon satin gown, cinched in at the waist and flowing down to the floor. The sleeves were short and sheer, her neckline scalloped but not plunging, the tops of her breasts managing to still peek out. They were practically brushing her chin in the balconette push-up bra Darcy bought.

It was worth it. It had to be.

“Do I look like the mother of the bride?” Darcy said suddenly, brushing her stomach, worrying about the control wear underneath.

“No,” Jane said. “But maybe lose the chunky jewellery.”

“I needed _something_ ,” Darcy whined. “God…”

Her phone buzzed and she swiped it from the bathroom sink, glancing down at it. Steve had sent her a few texts that day, nothing referring to the mutual fun they’d had. Darcy wondered if he meant to keep it clean for tonight, and maybe confront her about it when they were finally alone, which was meant to be in ten minutes or so when he was supposed to be getting her in a town car.

This felt a little too much like prom. Darcy hated prom. Her heart began to hammer, her body finally acknowledging what she was doing. Darcy hated crowds, and strangers. And rich people.

But she didn’t hate Steve.

**_Almost there. Looking forward to seeing you._ **

A smiley emoji followed and Darcy felt her stomach flutter, pressing her lips together. She’d gone for something more neutral on her lips that night, instead of the bold red she’d had during their lunch. Her eyes were the same, sharp eyeliner along with the clown lashes…

“Fuck. He’s nearly here. I better jet.”

“Try to grab some of those cute butter dishes they have on tables,” Jane said, and Darcy knew she was only half-joking. “What purse are you taking?”

“This one,” Darcy said, grabbing one from her room in her quick dash to retrieve it along with her heels.

Heels and fake lashes and tits up to her chin. Full clown face buffoonery. She was a drag queen, and not a good one. The velvet clutch was big enough to fit her phone and her keys, not much else.

“You coming back tonight?” Jane asked, and Darcy felt herself freeze, not sure of how to respond.

If she slept with Steve tonight, he might not respect her. She knew if that were the case, she wouldn’t respect _him_. If Darcy was easy, no-one suffered. Except she hadn’t had sex in several months, so maybe she’d be a little off? She tried not to think too ahead.

“Probably,” Darcy said. It was a cop-out answer but she felt most comfortable with it. She walked out of her room, racing down the hallway to the front door with Jane right behind her. “I’m only doing this as a favour.”

“Uh-huh,” Jane said, folding her arms.

Sure thing, Jan, Darcy thought. She gave Jane a tight smile, pulling the front door open, barefoot. She finally put on her heels, awkwardly leaning against the frame. She probably should have kept these on, but when she went to lunch in these, her feet had hurt too much. If she could get away with it, she’d take these off once they sat down at their table, if the tablecloths were long enough for her to tuck her feet under.

This was all so stupid.

“Have fun,” Jane called, and Darcy flipped her off without looking back.

She managed to get down the staircase and into the foyer, shoving the door open to slip into the night. She threw her coat on, suppressing a shiver as she wandered out. A gala in a gown in late December? This was all very fucking stupid.

She saw the back of his head, Steve standing on the curb, the car idling next to him. He turned around, brows lifting in recognition, hands in his suit pockets slipping out.

Jesus Christ, his suit. It wasn’t even that fancy, but it was sharp, and he looked like Jay fucking Gatsby. Darcy hated that book – or, she hated that class in tenth grade she nearly flunked because she didn’t like how her dumb teacher didn’t mention Fitzgerald’s wife Zelda, the real hero in his writing career… Darcy’s brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up, Steve seemed to bring this out of her, a flurry of feelings and thoughts. She was too excitable, stopping in front of him, speechless.

“Hey,” he said, and he moved toward her, hand touching her shoulder.

Did she go in for a kiss, or keep it tame? This was the same guy whose dirty tissue she saw. Darcy stalled, and at the last second, wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

A… fucking… _hug_? Was she thirteen and at her middle school dance? She thought about reeling back, but that would make it worse. Steve probably thought she was such a loser –

He gave a little chuckle, arms coming up to hug her back.

“Hello,” he murmured. “You’re so beautiful.”

Not ‘you look beautiful’ or ‘your dress is beautiful’. Darcy was beautiful. Her heart hammered and she felt her first of what she knew to be many blushes.

“Thank you,” she murmured back, when they broke apart. “You’re so handsome.”

He gave that half-smile that threatened to make her wet – Jesus Christ, her brain, she needed to fucking calm down – and turned toward the car again, moving to open the backseat.

“Hop in.”

Darcy ducked in as graciously as she could with a soft “oof”, scooting toward the window on the other side, before snapping her belt in place. Steve followed her, shutting the door, putting on his belt.

The car took off and Darcy cleared her throat.

“Was it hard to find the place? Our Postmates are always getting lost…”

“No, it was fine. Is it a long way to get to Manhattan from here?” he asked.

Darcy suspected he already knew that. She nodded a little, then shook her head.

“It’s like, an hour.”

“Each way?” he asked, and she nodded.

“It’s fine. I listen to a lot of music. Or my audiobooks,” she said. “Or, you know… I could just get a job in Queens.”

“Maybe,” Steve said. He was watching her like always. “You hear back from anyone?”

“No,” Darcy said.

Why would she? She knew Steve put in a good word, but she was only a temp for a few weeks. And it wasn’t as if Darcy excelled. She pushed that away, not wanting to go down a dark path already.

“Sorry,” Steve said, when Darcy didn’t elaborate. “I didn’t mean to give you the third degree.”

“It’s okay,” Darcy said. “You’re just looking out for me.”

Her saying that out loud, she finally knew that summed it up perfectly. Steve felt like he was overstepping, and Darcy knew he was trying to be kind, but she was bad at taking any of it. She flushed at this realization. Maybe she spent too long in her head, telling herself the things she didn’t deserve, and Steve was one of them. But he’d come all this way, and he didn’t seem upset by any of it – in fact, he was maybe holding back a little?

Darcy stared back at him. He cleared his throat, moving to pick something up from under the seat. It was a velvet box that he snapped open, before halting, shutting it again.

“I got you something,” he said, eyes meeting hers.

Darcy blinked at him. He was unsure if he’d overdone things.

“What is it?” Darcy asked, and his lips curled into a smile.

“Uh… it’s a necklace.”

He opened it again, showing her, and Darcy took the box, staring down at it. It was a long gold chain with a pearl pendant in the shape of a teardrop. There was a tiny little charm with it, a little bird.

“It’s a… partridge,” Steve murmured, and Darcy’s fingers traced the chain, moving up to tug the necklace from the box to hold it in her hands. “Like a partridge in a pear tree.”

“Holy shit, Steve,” Darcy breathed.

It was so thoughtful of him. So sweet. So… cute. He was so cute. How was a guy his age this cute? Darcy’s eyes swung back to his.

“Can you put it on me now?” she said, offering it to him.

She quickly gathered up her hair with one hand, turning her back to Steve as he leaned closer. She felt the cool chain across her neck, Steve’s hands over her front for a second to get it around – and then he was clipping it in place, the pearl pear and bird sitting just beneath her clavicles, Darcy’s fingers brushing them.

“Oh, wow.”

“You like it?” Steve murmured, his mouth right by her ear.

“Yeah, wow,” Darcy whispered. Her earnestness was so dorky, but he didn’t seem to be making fun of her.

She went still as his hand rested on the space where her shoulder and neck met, fingers stroking her skin for less than a second, before he pulled back, sitting in his seat beside her once again.

Darcy let her hair tumble back down and she turned toward him.

“Thank you _so much_.”

“You’re welcome.”

Darcy didn’t know what else to say. She was speechless. She felt so… _different_ to any other time a guy had given her a present. She knew her lips had parted some time ago in awe and she stayed that way, staring at the side of Steve’s face. He didn’t seem smug, just pleased that that had gone so well. He smelt really good too, what the fuck? What was he wearing?

Darcy shut her mouth, putting her hands in her lap, watching him as the car kept moving on and off. They stayed silent almost the whole trip, Steve taking out his phone at one point, glancing at Darcy.

“Sorry, Darcy, a client needs me to text them back.”

Darcy realized he was waiting for her permission. She blinked a couple times, stammering.

“G-Go, go ahead.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured.

He began to type back, his body shifting into something else. His brows were furrowed, his breathing slower. He was focused, his jaw ticking. Darcy wondered what it was about, and whether she should ask. That sounded like something a girlfriend would do – but she wasn’t his girlfriend.

He didn’t stop until they were close to the Jeph Loeb Center, her stomach full of nervous butterflies. He tucked his phone away just as the car was pulling up at the entrance, where he stepped out, offering his hand to Darcy as she followed him.

“Good evening, sir…”

People were milling around, some waving to Steve. He greeted them in a different voice. He wasn’t insincere, but Darcy could sense he was playing a role, kind of like the role Darcy would play in the firm building when she still had her crappy job. They went to the coat check-in where Darcy left hers, shoving the ticket into her clutch, as Steve pressed a few bills into the coat girl’s hand.

Darcy took his arm, breathing in his cologne. It was woodsy, perhaps? She’d need to find out. It was addictive. She did it to calm her nerves, letting out a little shaky breath as they walked into the main room where the most sound was coming from.

Happy laughter and voices overlapped one another as an orchestra played Christmas carols on one side of the main room. Darcy glanced up to see the kaleidoscope of colours above their heads, unable to keep the smile from her voice.

“Fuck me –” she whispered, before clamping her hand over her mouth, glancing at Steve. “I’m sorry-”

“Hey, if you can’t curse, you’re at the wrong fucking party,” came a voice, and Darcy glanced toward the source, seeing Tony Stark himself standing there, grinning.

“Hey, Tony,” Steve said, but he was being ignored.

“Hi,” Tony said to Darcy, coming forward to inspect her. “You look way too pretty to be with this jackass, who are you?”

“Tony, this is Darcy Lewis,” Steve said, not sounding as enthusiastic. “Darcy, this is Tony.”

“My reputation precedes me?” Tony said, finally glancing Steve’s way, an impish grin forming. “But you know I’m off the market, Rogers –”

“No, it’s just a high chance I saw you at work one time or another,” Darcy cut in, and Tony paused, and both men turned to look at her.

Steve was pressing his lips together, looking like he was trying not to laugh, while Tony’s mouth was open, confusion and amusement on his face.

“I’m intrigued…”

“I was temping for a while,” Darcy said. “When I met Steve.”

“Where?” Tony said, less polite, more intrusive than ever.

“Work,” Steve and Darcy said together.

It turned out they made a great team. Darcy was amazed she doubted her abilities. She wasn’t bad at improvising around rich people. She’d done it at work enough in Manhattan.

“In the elevator,” Darcy said, which was true.

“Practically ran into each other,” Steve added.

His hand was on the small of her back. Darcy felt her stomach flip, briefly distracted. She glanced his way, giving a little smile.

“How… _interesting_ ,” Tony said slowly. His eyes narrowed.

A couple weaved in front of them and he averted his gaze, somewhat distracted and Steve leaned over to whisper in Darcy’s ear.

“You’re doing great.”

Darcy didn’t know how true that was, since she’d been there five minutes and Tony Stark was the first person to interact with her. When Tony separated from the folks he spoke to, he gave Darcy another silent assessment. The orchestra began to play _Silent Night_ and Darcy turned her head toward the music, watching other people’s faces shift with recognition. The song was dreary and far too morbid for the mood of the party.

“Do you think they take requests?” Tony asked, and Darcy glanced his way.

“God, I hope so,” she replied. “I’d make them play _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ five times over.”

“It’s what Mariah would have wanted,” he said, with mock-reverence, nodding.

“Exactly,” Darcy said.

Tony exchanged a glance with Steve, smirking as he shook his hand. Darcy seemed to have passed the test by the look on his face. He departed, winking at her on the way. Darcy turned her head toward Steve, a little smile forming on his face.

“You want a drink?”

“Please.”

Darcy walked ahead instead of making Steve go first, spotting the bar on the side wall on the midway point of the main room. There were people trying to squeeze past one another to get drinks. Most faces lit up at the sight of Steve, oftentimes offering their hands to shake, greeting him with warm smiles. Steve was popular, which didn’t surprise Darcy at all. He didn’t make a big show of anything, but Darcy noted he remembered everyone’s names without hesitation. She’d like to think if they’d ever crossed paths at the firm while she was temping he would have learned her name.

They didn’t reach the bar for a while, one colleague catching Steve to ask him something about a case. Darcy tried to follow but she grew distracted by Steve hand slipping up from her back to her neck, his fingers resting against the chain of her necklace. He spoke with his brows a little furrowed, nodding, but Darcy sensed he was trying to argue with this guy, but politely.

“Can I send you the packet tonight, and you can look over it tomorrow?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. Send it to Desiree and I’ll read it.”

His thumb and forefinger were rubbing Darcy’s skin now, distracting her. She glanced over at the bar, seeing a few people look away, caught staring at her and Steve. She felt her cheeks flush again, swallowing as she tried to remain composed. The colleague finally acknowledged her.

“Hey, there, sweetheart.”

Not nearly as endearing as Steve. He was condescending, his sweetness false. Darcy took his hand anyway, shaking it.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Don’t work him too hard,” he said, winking.

Darcy forced a little laugh. Asshole. He left them and Darcy glanced up at Steve, his hand still on her neck.

“Sorry about that,” he said, and she frowned.

“ _Will_ you work tomorrow? It’s Sunday.”

That didn’t seem to have occurred to anyone but her. Steve gave a little shrug of one shoulder.

“I’ll work a half day,” he said, and he leaned down, kissing her cheek. “Let’s get you that drink…”

She forgot it a little, her concern. He worked too much, and maybe she needed to learn to not point that out. He didn’t seem too bothered by it, but it was no wonder he had this arrangement with her and other girls before her. Darcy told herself it wasn’t her business, the same as her life wasn’t his to dictate. That wasn’t what their coupling was for.

They both got fancy beers in tall glasses and Steve tapped hers with his, lifting it to sip. He looked so handsome, like it was an ad she’d see in a spread in _Vogue_ , a model draped across him. He did a lot of things that he probably didn’t know where very sexy, and then there were other things Darcy felt herself respond to that he had to know he did, like how his eyes changed whenever they met hers.

It kept happening when people came over to chat to Steve. Darcy would be standing there with him, listening to the conversation, and he’d look at her, the warmth radiating from her belly, a twinkle in his eye. At one point, his eyes dipped a little to Darcy’s chest before he glanced back at his colleague, Darcy’s triumph a series of cheers inside her own head.

She rarely wanted a guy to objectify her. It didn’t necessarily feel that way with Steve. She just liked feeling seen by him, when he could easily ignore her entirely. He was attractive enough that he could get away with anything, and yet he chose to be good.

“What do kids want these days, anyway?” one colleague said, middle-aged and fat, his wheezy laugh punctuating every sentence. “I don’t know. I asked my wife, she has no clue –”

Steve gave a little smile, shrugging. “I’m a dinosaur, too, Andy.”

“Darcy, what do kids like these days?” Andy asked, and Darcy blinked at them both. “You seem young enough to not be divorced from reality like us. I guess if we stepped out of the office every once in a while we might know –”

“What would you recommend the drive purchases?” Steve said, and Darcy sensed his irony.

He leaned down, hand on her waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Darcy’s stomach was molten with desire, her cheeks heating yet again. She took a second to gather her thoughts, to not sound too flustered.

“What did they get last year?” she asked.

“I heard hoverboards,” Andy said, laughing heartily.

“Then maybe Nintendo Switches this year,” she said. “It’s a console. Mario brothers and stuff like that.”

“And what do you want for Christmas this year?” Andy asked, and Darcy gave a little shrug, laughing when he did.

“I don’t know…”

“Keep this one,” Andy said, in a stage-whisper to Steve. “She didn’t say ‘diamonds’…”

Darcy wanted to laugh, because he was so close to the truth without knowing it. Other babies in her position would have diamonds on their list, or a Tiffany’s wishlist. Maybe the entire catalog of a La Perla. A Mont Blanc pen. Darcy had watched several videos of the sugar baby hauls, showing off their presents from daddies. Darcy’s so far was beyond what any boyfriend had given her – two thousand dollars and an exquisite Christmas-themed necklace.

Andy left them with his Cheshire grin, Darcy sipping more of her beer. Her calves had begun to ache, but no-one seemed to be sitting down. She kept forgetting to place her clutch in the appropriate spot to hide her burn, feeling silly when she realized it.

She needed the bathroom, too. She didn’t want to leave Steve alone. Not because she didn’t trust him, but she didn’t know whether she’d survive without him, but she knew it was impossible to take him into the powder room. She hesitated, biting her lip as he chatted to a senior counsel named Pat, a woman that towered over them both like Brienne of Tarth.

“Bathroom?” she murmured to Steve finally, when there was a pause in conversation and another colleague arrived.

“Over there,” he said, nodding his head toward the far wall, the sea of people in between. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, nodding.

She leaned up, kissing him on the lips. It wasn’t substantial but the gesture still left her flustered, pulling back and ducking her gaze to slip away from Steve. She felt his eyes watching her as she departed, taking a deep breath as she began to move through the crowd.

Andy saw her and waved, so did a few other people Steve introduced her to. Darcy told herself this was all fine, no-one had told her she didn’t belong there. She managed to get to the other side, walking into the ladies’ room, which was an Art Deco marvel, Darcy pausing on the threshold as she took it all in.

The attendant was a shorter black woman with her hair in a low bun, her little black bowtie contrasting with her cream shirt and waistcoat.

“Good evening. How do you do, ma’am?”

“Oh, please don’t call me that,” Darcy blurted, and the woman smirked.

“Alright. If you need me, I’m here,” she said, stepping back, arms folded behind her back.

Darcy nodded, widening her eyes a little. “Is it always like this?”

The girl nodded. “Yep. Every year.”

Darcy gave a little sigh, suppressing it at the end when woman stalked out of the stalls, rearranging her fox fur draped across her shoulders. She gave Darcy a quick once-over, not recognising her, before she went to the sinks, ignoring her and the attendant that offered her a mint.

Darcy watched her depart and she glanced at the girl again, brows hiking.

“Bet she thinks her shit don’t stink like everyone else’s…”

Darcy slipped away before anyone else could witness her roasting of these rich folks, stepping into a stall to pee. When she came out, she gave another sigh, giving herself a look in a mirror. She looked okay, nothing had slipped out of place. Her eyelids still felt strange from the lashes glued to them, but she’d got better at ignoring them being in her eye line. She took a step back, another woman walking in, changing when she saw Darcy.

“Hello.”

“Hello,” Darcy echoed, wondering what else to say.

“You’re here with Steven? I’m Grace, I work in HR.”

She didn’t remember Darcy. She’d given her an introductory interview on her first day, when she’d shown her the tiny desk on fifth she was meant to occupy. She’d gestured toward the break room, then the water cooler. She told Darcy to not ever arrive late or it would mean instant termination.

What a difference a dumb dress could make.

“I’m so glad he brought someone, finally,” Darcy heard her say, as if she was far away from her and yelling down a drain pipe.

Darcy gave another false smile, wondering how long she’d sustain it. She didn’t say a word, letting Grace stand there, wanting. She walked over to the attendant and took out her wallet, giving her some cash, before she actually found the motherlode.

“My Starbucks card has like, ten bucks on it,” she whispered, and the girl grinned at her.

“ _Thank you_ ,” she whispered.

Darcy walked out, back into the sea of people, the orchestra having finally moved into something livelier. _Jingle Bells_ had begun as Darcy pushed behind group of drunk male lawyers, one of them making eye contact, Darcy racing forward.

She felt such immense relief when she reached Steve’s side that it must have shown on her face, his arm encircling her waist, his head ducking so his mouth was by her ear.

“Save me.”

“Okay,” she murmured, laughing a little. As he drew back, Darcy glanced at the men he was talking to. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” one of them replied, looking at Steve pointedly. “That brief –”

“Yeah, Goldberg already asked me. I’ll email you tomorrow after I read it,” Steve said, his face slackening again to a more serious expression. He drew in a breath. “But I’m beat.”

Darcy knew it was a lie but how he looked when they stepped out into the night air, Darcy’s coat back on. They stood on the curb, the town car waiting for them, engine already running. Steve turned to Darcy, hand up, and Darcy went still – Steve’s fingers brushed her cheek before he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Was it awful?” he murmured.

“It wasn’t,” Darcy said, and she found herself telling the truth. “I…”

“I’ll get you home,” Steve said, but she shook her head.

He paused, brows lifting ever so slightly. Darcy swallowed, eyes drifting down before they snapped back up. She wanted. She’d wanted all night. She’d _wanted_ for days.

“Can we go back to your place?” she asked.

“It’s a mess,” he said, and she shook her head.

“I don’t care.”

He gave a little nod, half-smile forming before it vanished, his eyes a little darker. Darcy moved past him, opening the door for herself, slipping inside the backseat.

She took his hand on the drive over. His apartment building was wedged between several buildings Darcy recognized. She must have walked past it so many times, Steve inside, and not known. Something about that blew her mind that someone like Steve hadn’t been spotted by her in all her time in this part of the city. He would have made her turn her head.

It was only ten minutes. The time stretched on and on, and by the time the car drew up at the building, Darcy couldn’t keep still. She was fidgeting, looking out the window, shifting in her seat.

He stepped out, waiting for her, and Darcy followed, heart racing. The doorman tipped his hat.

“Hey, Reggie,” Steve said, and the man smiled at them both.

Darcy kept finding herself holding her breath in anticipation, walking up to the elevator, stepping into the elevator, walking out again… his penthouse apartment was not the mess he made it out to be.

There were papers on most of the surfaces, a sweatshirt draped over the back of his cream leather couch in front of the unlit fireplace. Steve let go of her hand, taking Darcy’s coat. He disappeared, coming back to find Darcy in front of his far wall overlooking the city. It was wall to ceiling windows. Everything was sleek and elongated, way too stylish for Darcy to feel like this wasn’t some hotel in Vegas. Hannah’s engagement party there a year ago, Darcy remembered the place they stayed in was like this, with a baby grand piano. Steve didn’t have one of those, but he had a minibar he slipped into, ducking to retrieve some glasses.

“What’s your poison?”

“Got anything obscenely expensive?” she said, and he smirked, eyes running along a line of bottles beneath.

“I have a Bordeaux I got as a gift, haven’t touched it.”

“Yeah?”

Darcy walked over, leaning against the stone bench of the bar, chin resting in her hand. He straightened up, turning the bottle around for her to read the label.

“It’s older than you,” he murmured.

“Okay, let’s open it,” Darcy murmured. “Not that I know anything about wine.”

Darcy leaned down to reach her ankle, rubbing it as Steve began to pour. She hesitated, their eyes meeting.

“I’m taking off my shoes,” she warned, and he pushed the glass closer to her.

Darcy unbuckled the strap, her shoe clunking on the floor, her other soon to follow. She stood back up with a little sigh, picking up her glass and putting it under her nose.

“It _smells_ like wine.”

She sipped.

“ _Tastes_ like wine.”

Steve copied her, licking his lips and glancing down at the glass again, brows hiking.

“Shit, that’s pretty good.”

Darcy began to giggle and Steve moved out from behind the bar, directing Darcy with a hand on her lower back toward the couch. There were three little steps, a thick shag rug under the couch. Steve knelt by the fireplace, busying himself with the lighter, shuffling back when he’d managed to create enough of a flame.

He gave a little groan as he stretched back up, and Darcy appreciated the sound, that he was familiar enough with her not to muffle it or pretend. He moved over to the spot beside her, his arm on the back of the couch, his hand behind her.

Darcy took another sip. “I think I like this.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Steve murmured, his knee swinging once, eyes shifting to the fire.

It was crazy that this was how she was spending her Saturday night. She stared at him, moving forward to place her glass next to his, the bottle behind them. She licked her lips.

“I’m glad you came,” Steve added. “Thank you.”

“That’s okay,” Darcy said, and he shook his head, fond.

“Let me thank you, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes swinging to hers.

The mirth there was undeniable. He was so compelling that Darcy couldn’t look away. She was aware of his thick thighs being apart, his knee touching hers. She shifted, tucking her feet under her, leaning her elbow on the back of the couch.

“Thank you, Darcy,” he said, and she nodded, feeling her cheeks warm.

The fire crackled, filling a silence. Steve’s hand moved, fingers brushing Darcy’s cheek, threading through her hair. Darcy took a deep breath, seeing Steve’s eyes searching her, eyes moving from hers to her mouth and back again.

His thumb grazed her cheek, the corner of her mouth. Darcy parted her lips, turning enough to catch it, wrapping them around the tip of his thumb, her tongue brushing the pad of it.

His eyes seemed endless and Darcy sucked slowly, hearing Steve’s breath hitch. She was teetering the line. Something about this felt life-changing, and she wanted to live in that moment forever, Steve’s eyes on hers, the fire in the background, the bitter cold air outside, the taste of the wine on her tongue that stroked his thumb, feeling every ridge.

He moved toward her, lips crashing into Darcy’s in easily the most mind-blowing kiss of her life. He sucked on her lower lip, hand clutching her jaw, the other deep in her hair.

She knew she’d make out with him eventually, but she felt as though she hadn’t fully planned for it. Steve wasted no time, licking into her mouth, Darcy’s moan muffled, Steve’s head tilting as they deepened, his tongue stroking hers. It was filthy and intentional, and it was everything.

“Mmph,” she mumbled, and he broke away, for her to take a breath, chasing her a second later.

Darcy moved her hands, gripping his shirt, tasting him, his tongue probing, lips sucking her tongue. She felt drunk when they drew back again, beginning to pant. His nose brushed hers, a slow grin forming on his face.

His lips were wet and pink, and Darcy gulped, her hand slipping down further.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

She looked down, seeing he was hard, the tent in his pants was undeniable. Her hands went to his belt, and she gulped when she managed to unbuckle it, Steve’s hands going to the fly, his big fingers working it.

He wore a charcoal pair of boxer briefs, and Darcy nodded at him before he could ask, his hand reaching in –

 _She was going to see Steve’s cock_. She knew she was near delirious with excitement, which was so unlike her. She held her breath, staring and staring as he took it out, pushing the waistband of his underwear down, tucking it under his balls –

It was… nice. Darcy hadn’t thought that about a dick before, but it was. It was inviting, long and thick, uncut and Darcy could smell it – the musk, all of that – and she saw the bead of precome that formed at the tip, which was rosy and straining toward Steve’s belly.

Darcy ducked down, her chin brushing Steve’s knuckles as he aimed it upward, her mouth opening automatically. He tasted salty, which didn’t surprise her. He was so warm, both soft and hard, as she pushed further down.

Steve let go of his dick, and his hand touched her head, guiding her, the movement so perfect Darcy moaned, right around his cock. Darcy moved further down, careful with her teeth, trying to make this the best he’d ever had, thinking of every move she knew, simultaneously trying to forget every guy that came before him.

She finally sucked, feeling stuffed, and Steve let out a soft grunt, his fingers now threading into her hair, making Darcy shiver. He give a little pull and Darcy moved back up, wondering what she’d done wrong.

His spare hand he put to his mouth, spitting, Darcy’s face aflame. He slicked himself up, Darcy’s mouth opening again, eyes meeting Steve’s in a hopeful glance. He bit his lip, Darcy diving in again, his hand never leaving her.

“Fuck, that feels so good already, Darcy…”

She’d never been praised this way before, at least not for sex. She loved it, the way she felt appreciated. She was doing a good job, he was liking this. She wanted Steve to like it. She shoved down, coughing, as she tried to impale herself on his dick –

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down,” he whispered, pulling her off again, and Darcy was so embarrassed for her rookie mistake.

He caught her in a rushed kiss, so thorough Darcy was made lightheaded, his other hand stroking himself, the sound so obscenely wet Darcy groaned into his open mouth.

“You can try again,” he whispered, and Darcy nodded, thankful he wasn’t making fun of her or stopping it completely.

Darcy moved down, Steve’s breath hitching as she took him to the back of her throat, slower this time. She sucked, swirled her tongue around and felt her chest tighten as she didn’t breathe. She moved up, hand wrapping around him, sighing a little, spit on her chin. Her eyes had watered, a tear leaking out of her left one. Steve’s thumb caught it, wiping it away.

Darcy shifted, breaking away to move off the couch, crouching between his open knees, Steve’s hand like a magnet to her head once she got close enough to him again.

She wanted him as wet as possible, moving down to kiss his shaft, then further, laving her tongue over his balls. Steve jerked himself as she sucked one into her mouth, and then the other.

“You’re so good at this, so good,” he breathed. “You want it again, baby?”

Darcy nodded, pulling back with a soft pop, giving a little sigh when she sucked his cock back down. She closed her eyes, revelling in it. She was his baby. He was purring at her now, his cheeks turning pink.

“You take me so good, so wet and – _fuck_. Fuck, you’re not even gagging right now, are you?”

She wasn’t. She took him to the root, moaning again, hearing his own echo hers. She rubbed her thighs together, enjoying every part of this, especially when his fingers dug in as he began to unravel.

“Fucking spoil me, sending me that picture, showing me you came…”

There it finally was, the acknowledgement of their dirty texts. Darcy redoubled her efforts, head bobbing, throat relaxed.

“Made me come so fucking hard, you’re so fucking gorgeous. Wanna see you come, are you gonna give me that?”

Darcy pulled back, some part of her breaking off. She shook her head. It was too soon. She couldn’t explain why, except that Steve wasn’t like anyone else, so she wasn’t acting like she usually did with guys. And maybe he was all talk, anyway. She’d only got this far in her fantasies, sucking him off like this.

“Next time?” he asked, and Darcy felt his fingers _yank_ , prompting her.

She shoved her head back down, Steve’s hips lifting for the first time and she didn’t even fucking gag.

“Next time,” he hissed. “Can’t wait to make you come, baby. You can ride my face –”

Darcy let out a groan, so overwhelmed by his words, whimpering around his cock as she pushed his other hand into her hair, encouraging him.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck, I’m _coming_ –”

Darcy sucked him down, didn’t dare move back an inch, feeling him jump and spill over, his low, low groan making her clench on nothing, whimpering as he rode it out.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re so good to me…”

Darcy had waited to know what he tasted like and now she did, pulling back when he’d stopped twitching, panting, sniffling a little as she recovered. She swiped up her glass of wine and took a gulp, watching as Steve tucked himself away.

When she put her glass aside, he reached over, tugging her into his arms, surprising her with a kiss. His hand held the back of her neck, his other slipping down her thigh over her dress, all the way to the hemline that gathered by her knees.

“You gonna let me take care of you?” he whispered, his eyes blown.

Darcy huffed, his hand moving up, along her inner thigh, hidden by her dress. She kissed him, as consuming as possible, whimpering as his hand moved ever closer to her center.

“Can I feel?” he whispered, noses brushing.

Darcy nodded, chest heaving, and when he finally touched her between her thighs, he let out a little groan when Darcy cried out, a desperate little sound managing to claw its way up the back of her throat.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re so wet. Can I -?”

“Please, fuck – _please_ ,” Darcy whispered. She almost called him ‘Daddy’. Almost. She couldn’t quite make herself, it was crossing some line. It was different when she typed it out on her phone.

His fingers ran along the slick edge of her underwear, before his wrist moved, Steve watching Darcy’s face the entire time. Next time was _right now_. He pushed the material aside, pushing a finger in, Darcy’s breath hitching. He added another, and she felt so full, his thumb rubbing across her clit.

“Fuck, please,” she begged. “ _Please_.”

It felt so good she thought she could die, there was no other explanation. Something must be wrong with her brain, to feel this good with only two of Steve’s fingers working her. She had to be having some type of stroke –

He kissed her hard, fucking her a little faster, and even with the dress to muffle the sound, Darcy still heard it. She was dripping with excitement, hips beginning to rock.

“Gripping me so tight, I love it,” Steve whispered.

Everything he was saying was so ridiculous but it was working like a charm, Darcy moaning as he nipped at her cheek then her neck, letting her ride his hand. She drew closer to the edge, suddenly terrified by how she wound further and further up.

“So good,” he whispered, right by her ear. “You’re so good, baby.”

She was his baby. She nodded, moaning.

“You gonna come for me?” he whispered.

Never in her life had she been asked that. She sucked in a breath, nodding more, her hand gripping his hair now, and he was so soft, she hadn’t realized he’d feel that way –

“Come for me, babygirl.”

Darcy’s mouth fell open and she clenched around his fingers, the wave cresting. She gave a high exhale, gripping and slackening, on and on…

Steve let out an appreciative little hum, drawing back to look her in the eye, kissing her lips, fingers still inside her. Darcy was shaking in his arms, wondering how the fuck she was meant to walk after this, let alone not try to hide from him.

She’d never come so hard in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my inner monologue is just: errrrrryaaaaahhhhhHHHHhHHHHHHhHHHhhhhHHHHHH!
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	5. v. I Didn't Think You Were Real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, you deserve this

_I can be good sometimes_  
_I'm a cheap queen_  
_I can be what you like_  
_And I can be bad sometimes_  
_I'm a real queen_  
**\- "Cheap Queen" by King Princess**

**v. I Didn't Think You Were Real**

Darcy could feel she was fighting off waking up completely. She took a deep breath, her eyes fluttering open to a darkened room as she gave a little stretch under the covers. She had more leg room than usual, more space to roll around. And then she remembered she didn’t go back to Queens last night.

The unfamiliar place of Steve’s main bedroom greeted her and she leaned back on her elbows, parts of the night coming back to her.

The gala went well, as well as it could. Darcy hadn’t made any social faux-pas, and if she had, Steve didn’t let her know about them. She mingled and appeared to be the doting girlfriend he’d asked her to pretend to be. She came back here, they drank some wine, and then –

Oh, yeah. That. Darcy felt her stomach flip at the memories of her sucking off Steve, his gravelly praises and grabbing hands, and his fingers inside her afterward, his eyes watching her come in the firelight. When they separated, she’d tried to gather herself back up, to try to recover whatever dignity she had left. He’d rendered her speechless and messy, her cunt still twitching as he pulled his fingers away, standing up and turning away from her. He walked out of the living room, his back to her, probably not expecting Darcy to notice him sucking his own fingers as he disappeared to clean up.

When he returned, Darcy was lying on her side, watching him, her eyes heavy-lidded. Her limbs still felt weak, her body strangely sated. He gave her a little smile.

“Do you want me to call you a car?”

Darcy knew he’d pay for it, no questions asked. He’d check in with her to know she got home safe. He seemed the type to be a gentleman no matter what, so maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised when he insisted she take his bedroom when she said she’d rather sleep over.

She’d woken alone because he’d left her in there, after he offered her a shirt to sleep in, and a big fluffy towel for when she showered. Darcy had managed to peel off her eyelashes and leave them by the sink, but she didn’t do anything else. She lifted her hands to touch her hair, feeling a few bobby pins she’d left it, her curls a little crunchy. She gave a short groan, not wanting to move, but knew she had to. She needed to put in an appearance and get out of there, since Steve was meant to be working. She knew she’d be hanging on his every word, wanting his attention the entire time if she stayed, and that wasn’t entirely fair.

He might have let her stay out of politeness. A part of her was telling herself last night was too good to be true. In Darcy’s experience, nine times out of ten, it was. She knew if she overstayed her welcome, she might ruin it all. He had his life and she had hers, even though hers was such an uneventful Sunday. She had no plans, a pile of laundry at home and Jane to grill her about the gala. She wasn’t looking forward to any of it. At least she wasn’t hungover.

She threw back the blanket, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, forcing herself up. She reached the window, inspecting the blinds, scrubbing her eyes. She took her contacts out before she fell asleep, that was good. She found a little display against the wall, her fingers hovering. She pressed the arrow pointed upwards and it sprang into life, the blinds whirring as the light came flooding in. She held it down for a few seconds before letting go, watching as the blinds kept going, revealing more and more of Manhattan around and below.

Her stomach dropped a little, automatic. She was fine with heights if she made sure not to think about it too long. She didn’t fuck with balconies, though. Darcy always got the urge to fling herself off them, some hindbrain bullshit that made her queasy.

She squinted at the view, everything blurry. She had her glasses in her purse on the chair in the corner of the room. There was just so much space to move, it was ridiculous. Darcy plucked her bobby pins out, snagging her hair, as she walked into the adjoining bathroom.

There were her eyelashes, hanging out by the sink, looking sad. Darcy opened the shower stall door and leaned in to switch on the faucet. There was another display on the tiled wall inside the stall, with a temperature adjustment system.

“Oh, wow,” Darcy murmured aloud.

This was Elon Musk-type shit. She played around, increasing the temperature by a few degrees, the changes instantaneous. At home, Darcy liked near-scorching showers so she always had lobster legs when she got out at the end. She glanced to the right, seeing there was a whole other showerhead in there. Two showers, one stall. Two sinks, too, now that she looked properly.

She stripped off, picking up a washcloth Steve left on top of the towel. There was also a brand-new toothbrush in a little box. Darcy gave a little sigh, stepping inside the shower.

There were several bottles of body wash inside, with names Darcy didn’t know. She recognized one from Lush that smelt of roses so she lathered her whole body with it. She was pretty rough with her own skin, wanting to feel as clean as possible. She scrubbed at her face with a Korean brand cleanser and hoped for the best.

When she got out, she thought about underwear – remembering again she wasn’t a total idiot, she’d prepared for an emergency. She got out a pair she’d stuffed into her purse, along with emergency tampons and a pad. She had a tube of mascara, too.

She moved as fast as possible, putting the balconette bra back on and Steve’s dark shirt, along with her clean undies and the mascara. She only got one little glob of black shit on her in the process, a new record. She flicked it away once she let it dry, managing to not like a mark.

She took a deep breath, moving to the bedroom door, opening it a crack, listening out. She heard Steve on the phone, murmuring something in his Lawyer Voice. Darcy carefully began to tiptoe down the hallway, appreciating the heating being on. If she was at home, she’d be rugged up in bed for hours, refusing to move unless she was wearing two pairs of socks.

Darcy saw Steve at the dining table by the windows, his eyes swinging up to hers, a little smile forming at the sight of her. Darcy swallowed, pausing, not sure what to do with her hands.

She was suddenly so aware of her bare legs and how they looked in the daylight. Last night, they were mostly hidden by her dress. This was the most skin Steve had ever seen.

Move, idiot, she thought, and she did – slipping to the left of the dining table, searching for the kitchen.

It wasn’t particularly large but the fridge was giant. Every appliance and surface looked shiny and new. It was all marble benches and chic stools, some copper kitchenware hanging from hooks on the far wall. She spotted the coffee machine in a corner and approached it, surveying it.

If she broke it – fuck, she better not. Her finger hovered, uncertain, over one glowing button. She stepped back, opening the cupboards above the machine, finding a little mug. She shoved it under the machine, finding the eject button that popped open a compartment.

She glanced to the right, seeing a tower of coffee pods, grabbing a random one. She smirked, seeing it was a Dunkin’ Donuts brand pod, before she popped it into the machine, snapping the compartment shut.

She pressed the glowing button and watched the machine begin to whir, steam and coffee spurting out of it. She stood back, unsure, until it stopped, seeming satisfied with its job.

She picked up her mug, sniffing the coffee. She sipped it, before she heard a soft shuffling behind her. She turned her head, seeing Steve come in, phone in hand, eyes warm.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log,” Darcy replied.

He gave a little smile, approaching her. Darcy went still, wondering what he was about to do. He leaned against the kitchen island, phone put aside.

She hadn’t seen him like this before. He was wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt, a tighter fitting version of the one Darcy wore to bed. She could see a chain he kept hidden under the neckline, something inside her responding to this best. If she was honest, this was the most ‘Daddy’ version of him, looking so soft and inviting, his big hands so capable, his biceps no longer hidden under sleeves.

If she was watching him from afar, she’d start to purr, chin in her hands. Heart eyes, motherfucker.

“How long have you been up?” she asked, sipping her mug.

“Since seven.”

She’d seen on her phone before she slipped out of her room that it was after ten. He’d been working for three hours already, this early on a Sunday. She frowned a little, unable to stop herself.

He didn’t make a fuss about it. He didn’t get defensive or explain himself, he only kept watching her, turning his body toward her. Darcy took another gulp of coffee, lowering it when Steve placed his hands on either side of her hips, caging her in, her butt pressed up against the edge of the bench.

Instead of waiting for him to kiss her, she leaned up on tip-toe, pressing a kiss to his cheek. It was meant to be a thank you, for letting her sleep in his room. She was in his apartment, drinking his coffee, wearing his shirt. A part of her thought maybe he would kick her out now, as politely as possible.

When she pulled back, staring back at him, her lips parted, Steve’s eyes changed, his hands coming up to grab her face, slanting his mouth over hers.

His short beard, combined with the taste of him she remembered from last night, and the way he was manhandling her now – it was enough for Darcy to gasp, his tongue plying her lips open, slipping inside –

His phone began to buzz and he pulled back with a smack of their lips, staring down at her mouth, his wet lips curling.

“Saved by the bell,” he murmured.

Darcy put her mug aside when they separated, her hands already reaching for him again even though he’d moved to swipe up his phone and unlock it, putting it to his ear.

Her hands found his front and she leaned up, kissing his throat, wanting more. The neediness she’d been fighting off came to the front, lips pressing to his skin to suck and nibble –

His hand slipped down to grab a handful of her ass as he answered the call.

“Hey, Buck.”

Darcy couldn’t make out the voice on the other end, but Steve wasn’t using his Lawyer Voice anymore. She pulled back, watching his face soften a little.

“I had a date last night. Yeah. Yeah, I have photo evidence and everything –”

Darcy’s mind immediately went to her picture she’d sent him of her vibrator. Darcy knew Steve meant the photographer at the gala that had circled them a couple times to take pictures of the staff talking to one another, posing with cheesy smiles.

His brows lifted, taking the phone away from his ear, pushing it toward Darcy.

“He wants to speak to you.”

Darcy’s eyes widened but she obeyed, clearing her throat.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” came a male voice on the other end. He coughed. “This is awkward. I didn’t think you were real.”

“I’m… very much real,” Darcy replied, and Steve grinned, pushing her back into the bench, his hips meeting hers. “Do you want to speak to Steve again?”

“Yeah, put his dumb ass back on…”

Steve took back the phone, hand raised to trace Darcy’s face with his long fingers, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m busy today. Yeah. Yeah, well – alright. Just a sec.”

He muted the phone, nose brushing Darcy’s. He gave her a slow kiss, both of them breathing deeply, Darcy’s stomach somersaulting. He broke away eventually, smiling down at her.

“Bucky’s inviting us to the park with his wife and their kid,” he murmured. “He’s my best friend –”

“He’s inviting us both?” Darcy said, and Steve nodded. “Aren’t you working?”

“I… _was_ ,” Steve said. “Guess you’re a bad influence on me.”

“A park in Brooklyn?” Darcy guessed, and Steve smirked. “His accent is stronger than yours.”

“It’s really last minute –”

“I want to,” Darcy murmured. She looked down, then back up again, sure she was being too earnest again. “If that’s okay.”

Steve kissed her, more rushed, and Darcy broke away first, panting a little, gulping. Steve put his phone to his ear again after he unmuted it.

“Yeah, we’ll come. You can meet Darcy.”

That was fucking intimidating, Darcy thought, somewhere among her sudden need to put her mouth all over Steve –

He gave a little grin. “See you, jerk.”

He hung up and kissed her again, hands deep in her hair, Darcy’s hands wrapping around his wrists.

-

Darcy took the car Steve offered her, telling him she’d meet him at Fort Greene Park that afternoon. The whole car ride home, she kept thinking about how Steve wanted to stalk her through his apartment, kissing her in between gulps of her coffee. She eventually pushed him away to retreat to his bedroom and put back on her gown.

He did like her, she kept reminding herself. She wasn’t being used. Steve was being used, if she was, and that simply wasn’t true. She put the necklace back on and slipped out of his apartment, aware that she was a textbook example of a walk of shame. She was even barefoot, because fuck those heels on a Sunday afternoon. She longed for her sneakers, pushing her glasses back up her nose as she slipped into the backseat of the car.

Jane raced out of her room the second Darcy shut their front door behind her, pointing with a triumphant gleam to her eyes.

“You didn’t come back last night!”

“No, I did not,” Darcy murmured. “You happy?”

“So… how was it?”

“Gala was okay, actually –”

“No,” Jane cut in, as Darcy walked past her and toward the kitchen. “Steve. How was _he_?”

“We didn’t have sex.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Jane said. “Something happened.”

Darcy opened the fridge, obscuring her face that had turned pink, grabbing the tub of cream cheese from within, before spinning around to get a bagel from the package next to the toaster.

“I blew him,” she admitted, shrugging a shoulder. “But, like, that’s pretty standard –”

“Did he… blow your back out?” Jane said, and Darcy shot her a look.

“Please never say to me ever again.”

“I’m very single right now, you’re my only contact with the dating world at this point,” Jane retorted, laughing a little. “I have to ask these gross questions in order to survive.”

Darcy cut her bagel in half, shoving it into the toaster.

“He… helped me out,” she murmured.

“But -?”

“I’m seeing him in a couple hours. I’m meeting his friends,” Darcy said, her stomach fluttering with anticipation. “We’re going to Brooklyn.”

“Oh, wow,” Jane said. “You… barely ever meet the friends. Or the family.”

“Thanks,” Darcy muttered.

“I’m just saying, you must really like this guy. I’m happy for you.”

“It’s still pretty casual,” Darcy said, trying to not get hers or Jane’s hopes up.

She ate her bagel on the couch, checking her phone incessantly, feeling anxious as the minutes dragged on. She half-expected Steve to back out, wanting space. He’d dropped work, after all. She didn’t think it was a common occurrence.

Darcy dressed in her only good pair of jeans, appreciating how they hugged her ass, lifting everything a little. She couldn’t believe she managed a whole night of wearing shapewear _and_ heels. Everything ached now, and she was happy to get into a soft t-shirt before she slipped on her long coat again. She checked her face in the mirror several times, Jane her audience once more.

“You look very cute.”

“Thanks, you should call Brunn,” Darcy retorted, changing the subject.

“That is _never_ happening again,” Jane said, emphatic.

Darcy wasn’t even slightly convinced, glancing Jane’s way, eyebrow cocked.

“Stay out of my business and I’ll stay out of yours.”

“It’s more like a sisterly concern!” Jane called after her, as Darcy walked out, opening the front door.

-

Darcy skipped down the steps, seeing Steve at the curb like last night, hands deep in his jean pockets. Their outfits were similar and Darcy told herself not to make such a big deal… except he was wearing the hell out of his baseball cap, smiling down at her when she arrived at his side.

“You ready?”

“Yeah.”

They sat in the backseat, Darcy’s face turned toward the window as she tried to keep her glee in. He was so cute, she wanted him to know with her whole body – but she was too self-conscious of Steve’s driver to touch him. His hand found her thigh at one point and gave a little squeeze.

“How do you know Bucky?” Darcy asked, breaking their comfortable silence as the car stopped at a traffic light.

“We grew up together,” Steve said. “Went into the Army around the same time.”

“Oh,” Darcy said. “Is he still in the Army?”

Steve shook his head. “Left long time ago, like me. He works as a contractor now, with other vets. We joined because we were broke, and at the time it seemed like a good idea.”

Darcy couldn’t relate. Nothing about the Army appealed to her. She’d known kids in her high school that wanted to join because they wanted to shoot folks, not really mincing their words, and Darcy wondered if Steve had a similar view once upon a time.

When she thought about it longer than a second, she decided that couldn’t be right. He was too gentle with her, too conscientious of the other people around him to act that way. There wasn’t any real violence to him, even when he grabbed her with rougher hands than she was used to.

“Bucky’s wife Natasha was in the Marines,” Steve added. “They had my niece Tati a couple years ago.”

Darcy liked how his eyes lit up at the mention of this little girl. It made Darcy lean over to grab his hand, threading their fingers together.

“What about your brother’s kids?” he asked, and Darcy felt herself retreat a little.

She didn’t want to talk about her family, but she knew this was how conversations went. It was give and take. She looked away, somehow not expecting him to mention he remembered her bitching about her surgeon older brother.

“Naomi and Sarah,” Darcy said. “They look nothing like a Lewis girl. They’re blonde with blue eyes, like their mom.”

Steve gave a little half-smile. “My ma was named Sarah.”

Darcy blinked. “It means ‘princess’ in Hebrew, did you know that?”

He nodded, barely, his voice softer. “Yeah. Yeah, I did…”

Darcy felt something else shift, like he was looking at her differently. She swallowed, rolling her lip between her teeth.

“She sounds like she was royal, your mom,” she said, and he nodded. “I’m sorry about her, Steve.”

“Yeah, me, too,” he said.

Their silence was only broken when the car drew up at the edge of the park. Darcy stepped out first, looking around. There were clusters of people dotted around. There was a group of women in a circle under a tree, doing yoga on mats. There were dogs chasing one another, strollers with couples. She tried to picture Bucky and his wife.

Steve moved up beside her, after he told his driver to go back to Manhattan, Darcy’s brows lifting.

“I have… a Metrocard,” he said, shrugging. “I can get the train back.”

“See how the other half lives,” Darcy muttered, nudging him with her elbow.

He caught her, pulling him into his side, kissing her head.

“Y’know, Buck and I used to count our quarters on the train to Coney Island and there was never enough for two hotdogs,” he murmured, rubbing her arm. “He always gave me the bigger half when we shared. Dumbass.”

He burst into a wider grin, Darcy’s eyes following his, to see a couple with a stroller in the distance, waving at him. Steve waved back.

“Don’t be nervous, it’ll be love at first sight,” he murmured, and Darcy felt her stomach fluttering, wondering – _hoping_ …

Bucky was handsome with blue eyes and brown hair, his grin infectious, his wife around Darcy’s height with bright red hair, their toddler her carbon copy except she had Bucky’s big blue eyes.

“What the fuck, he actually came,” Bucky said to his wife.

He glanced at Darcy, brows lifting.

“Hi.”

“Hi, we spoke on the phone?” Darcy said, her heart hammering.

He was _exceptionally_ pretty. They were a very beautiful couple. Darcy couldn’t stop staring at them both, as they made fun of Steve.

“He is capable of meeting people in-person. And he even stopped working,” Natasha said, her voice a husky timbre. Her full lips pulled into a grin, looking down at Tati. “Look, honey –”

Steve bent down, gathering Tati into his arms and lifted her out of her seat, the little girl squealing with delight, Darcy’s own giggle bubbling up at the sight.

It did something to her, seeing him like this with a kid. He looked so happy, and comfortable. He wasn’t shy with expressing his love for her. He kissed her face, squeezing her with a soft growl.

“You’re growing too fast. Stop growing…”

“No,” she murmured, shaking her head with a grin.

“You wanna go on the swings with Uncle Stevie?” Natasha said, and Tati began to nod.

“Mama come, too!”

“Okay,” Natasha said, glancing at Darcy. “Sorry –”

“That’s okay,” Darcy said.

Steve met her gaze and she nodded. She’d be fine. He, Tati and Natasha departed, walking over to the playground. Darcy was left with Bucky, who wasted no time in putting an arm around her shoulders.

“Walk with me…”

“Okay,” Darcy said, laughing. She blushed.

She knew Bucky was her type, older and confident, and she fell into step with him, the air in front of their faces as they walked around the loop of the park.

“So, do I need to start the shovel talk -?”

“What?” Darcy blurted. “No –”

“Sweetheart, I’m just playin’,” he said, and Darcy felt herself relax a little. “I meant, is he treating you right? I can turn very older-brotherly. I have a baby sister.”

“Yeah?”

“She’s a pain in my ass but she’s still older than you,” he murmured.

The pause dragged a little and Darcy drew in a breath.

“Do you… not approve of that?” she asked eventually. “The age difference?”

“It’s fine,” he said, and he glanced down at her. “I mean, girls your age might put up with crap, like Steve working long hours over the holidays for no fuckin’ reason…”

“He’s busy, he’s very important at his firm,” Darcy said, coming to Steve’s defense.

“He tell you that?” Bucky said. He frowned a little. “Nah, he wouldn’t say that. He doesn’t brag.”

“I worked with him,” Darcy said. “Before I was fired. I was a temp.”

Everything about Darcy screamed ‘I am young and poor’. She hoped Bucky looked past that long enough to give her a chance. She knew that no matter how friendly he was to her face, her opinion when she wasn’t around may be otherwise. She’d had plenty of experiences of friends of boyfriends finding her wanting but she only found out later… usually midway through a breakup.

“Actually, I wasn’t even on Steve’s floor. We met when I got fired,” Darcy went on, not pausing for a breath. “He fired the guy who fired me.”

“Shit, what happened?”

“Married, creepy attention?” Darcy said, grimacing, and Bucky’s eyebrows hiked.

“I’m sorry – are you okay?”

“No, I mean – I’m fine. I’m just… I know I’m not Steve’s type or anything,” she said, feeling herself flush. She was fucking this up by talking too much.

Why couldn’t she pretend she was a put-together person two days in a row? She managed okay last night. Bucky halted, making Darcy stop.

“Darcy,” he said, and he gave short chuckle, shaking his head.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Darcy retorted.

“I’m not – just… Sweetheart, you’re _absolutely_ his type,” Bucky said.

“What?” Darcy blurted.

Bucky suddenly turned them around, and Darcy was forced to move back the way they came. Bucky’s arm stayed around her shoulders all the way, until they reached the playground.

Steve glanced over, smirking at the sight of Bucky with his arm around her.

Bucky turned his head, whispering:

“I’ve never met Steve’s girl before, alright?”

He moved back, and Darcy nodded. This was a big deal. She needed to accept that, even if this was a little fake, and the necklace that she wore was a sugar baby present.

-

They took the subway back to Manhattan. Steve kept kissing her at random moments. His phone would buzz with messages and he’d type back with Darcy’s head resting against his shoulder, his screen in full view. He didn’t have anything to hide, not that Darcy could make a lot of sense about what he was writing back to these colleagues and clients.

They’d had lunch at the park since there was a food truck. Darcy ate a hotdog, remembering Central Park, exchanging a little knowing glance with Steve as the five of them ate together at a bench. Tati wandered over to Darcy at one point, her little hand taking hold of a piece of Darcy’s hair.

“I’m sorry – she _will_ yank it clean out of your scalp,” Natasha said, but Darcy wrapped her hand around Tati’s little fist, peering down at her.

“Hey. How old are you, Tati?”

“Two,” she said, and she was breathing heavily, pawing at Darcy.

Darcy pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back over her huge puffy coat. Bored with her soon after, Tati moved back toward her uncle, going in for a bite of his food.

They reached Steve’s apartment building, taking the elevator up in a comfortable silence. Darcy kissed him when his front door shut behind them.

It was mid-afternoon. Darcy didn’t have a lot of sex at this hour on a Sunday. She didn’t know what she pictured, but this was nice, somehow better.

He kissed her hard, their coats falling to the floor. The skin of his muscly arms were on display again and Darcy moaned, taking everything he gave, shoving his baseball cap away. They broke apart to pull their sneakers off, shoes tossed aside along the way, and Darcy was soon falling into the couch, Steve following her, wrapping her thighs around his hips.

Being underneath him was heavenly. Their hips rocked together as he stoked the fire deep within her that started at her core. Movements sped up as Darcy panted, mouths beginning to miss each other as hands mapped out each other’s bodies.

His crotch bumped into hers and Darcy whimpered, Steve’s mouth ducking down to her neck, her scalp tingling from the way his fingers combed through it with alternating grips.

He pulled back a little, staring down at her, and Darcy’s hands moved to the front of his jeans, her fingers managing to pop the button and pull down his fly. He moved back down, grabbing her by the waistband of her jeans, yanking her body closer, the thrill of his possessiveness making Darcy frantic, his fingers gripping her jaw to kiss her breathless.

Her hand only ghosted across the front of his underwear for a few seconds before he was breaking away again, hand going to the back pocket of his jeans, Darcy peering up at him as he took out his wallet and keys. His keys were thrown aside, clattering across the coffee table, his wallet opened, and he pulled out a condom –

Darcy held her breath, waiting as he quickly ripped it open, pulling his cock out to put it on. Darcy’s face burned with want as she gulped, anticipating everything. Her heart felt too big, each pound of it making her catch her breath. He helped undress her, enough to shove down her jeans and underwear, exposing her to the air –

Darcy shivered, and he lay her back down, tongue _digging_ into her mouth, lining himself up. They were both panting, completely silent as he first pushed inside, and then –

“Oh, God,” Darcy gasped, and Steve squeezed his eyes shut, groaning.

He pushed further in, Darcy’s fingers digging into his arms, their foreheads pressed together. Steve moved a hand up to grab her by the hair, gathering it as he began to rock, shallow and gentle at first.

The stretch was drawing desperate little sounds from Darcy she didn’t know she was capable of making. Was it too much? It was bordering on painful, how full she felt. She could feel she was gripping him already, body tightening, her breaths shaky.

“Baby,” he moaned, and Darcy surrendered to it, whimpering.

“Please –”

He began to move a little faster, hips snapping, and Darcy’s hands slipped up, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, their breathing already ragged as they moved together. She gnawed at her lip, until he was moving down to kiss her on the mouth, his tongue hot and demanding as he fucked her deeper into the couch.

_She was going to come._

She broke away, head thrown back as she felt it take over – and a part of her was terrified, she hadn’t come like this before. She didn’t know she could. She gave a little sob, cunt clenching around him, Steve groaning, moving faster, harder.

He was brutal, their bodies smacking together as Darcy felt a wetness trickle down, her vision blurring as she tried to recover with Steve driving into her again and again – she could catch her breath, and he was groaning, deeper now, losing momentum –

“Fucking – _God_ –”

He shuddered, going still, pinning Darcy beneath him. The room was spinning. Darcy panted, Steve pulling back from her neck where he’d buried his face, blinking down at her dazedly.

A long kiss, sucking lips and tongue, filthy but languid. Darcy saw spots in the corner of her vision, feeling Steve begin to slip out of her. She whimpered, empty again, aching…

He stayed in her arms, the air thick with musk, Darcy’s heart still racing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please go read [And you would be there too](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763423/chapters/67962472) by Em_Jaye, who is also currently writing a Shieldshock Christmas fake dating fic this year
> 
>   
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	6. vi. So Sweet

_There's something about you girl_   
_That makes me sweat_   
**\- "Need You Tonight" by INXS**

**vi. So Sweet**

Darcy did not see Steve for four days.

She felt as though she took it for granted, the amount of time he’d already given her. No wonder Bucky was surprised he actually showed on that Sunday afternoon, because the week after that, she was lucky if he managed to reply to anything she texted him.

Darcy was hooked, like a goddamn amateur.

It didn’t stop him from trying to maintain her interest. He sent her poinsettias on Monday, with a little card in which he wrote:

**_Thank you making this the best time of the year_ **

He didn’t pay for someone to do it for him, he wrote it in slanting cursive, and signed it at the bottom with a little ‘x’. Darcy stared at it, and then held it in her hand for hours afterwards.

When she’d gone home on Sunday night, she’d tricked herself into thinking the good feelings would be almost constant. In Steve’s world, all she had to do was be there to feel safe and happy. Living outside of her own reality meant coming back to Queens and sleeping in her cold apartment. She was really slumming it, wandering around the place that night, listless, annoying Jane because she wouldn’t sit still.

Jane woke her the following morning the usual way – by making too much sound when she was getting ready, and Darcy hadn’t slept well. She kept checking her phone, hoping Steve would message her something sweet, something that would keep her satisfied.

Getting the flowers mid-morning made her open up her Spotify and blast Christmas music into the late afternoon. She only stopped when Jane came home, and it was only then that Darcy realized she hadn’t done anything else all day. She hadn’t even got out of her pajamas.

-

Tuesday and Wednesday were spent in almost the exact same way. Darcy started off the morning well, with texts from Steve, telling her he missed her. She sent some back, hoping for more, but he was clearly too busy for her. She deflated, but dressed for the day, spent some time looking at job ads online and applied for some positions. She checked her emails, seeing nothing regarding Steve’s recommendation. It was as if she didn’t exist.

Darcy left the apartment to go to the convenience store a block away, bought candy and magazines and then came back, ate ramen for lunch on the couch while she watched Christmas movies.

Two days in a row it was like this, except on Wednesday night Darcy read a Vogue magazine from cover to cover, and then made a list. She titled it The Bougie List.

If she took a step back and really looked at herself, she’d not like what she saw because of how thorough she seemed to be about her list of things she’d buy if money was not an issue. She didn’t think she’d ever show the list to Steve, just refer to it whenever he asked her if she wanted anything. It was mostly designer fashion and accessories. She didn’t know where she’d wear a lot of this stuff, anyway, so it was more of a fantasy than an actual sugar baby wish list.

And then she moved onto where she’d go with Steve in money wasn’t an issue. The list grew and grew, until she’d filled two pages back to back in her little notebook, and then she was constructing mood boards on her laptop. It was comprehensive, this whole sugar baby thing. She stuck her headphones on and started watching more videos.

_“Is he neglecting you? This is unacceptable as your sugar daddy, and he deserves to know it.”_

Steve wasn’t neglecting her. He was busy, and he took longer to get back to her, but he wasn’t ignoring her. He didn’t have a choice. Darcy knew he only had long-distance arrangements with other girls before her, and she had to reconcile with that somehow. It didn’t stop her missing him, her stomach twisting every so often, thinking maybe she should have put her foot down and waited a while until they had sex.

But it was so good. Thinking about it all over again got her riled up, wanting more. Sex was supposed to be like that, right? Fun and something you did because you wanted to, not necessarily to reward someone for being nice, for including you in their life. That sounded wrong to Darcy. She liked Steve a lot, probably too much for this type of relationship.

Steve wanted her to have her own life. Unfortunately, it was becoming clearer to Darcy that her life wasn’t that fulfilling before he came along, so now she’d become too attached to someone who couldn’t always be there.

She capped off each night with porn, scrolling through sites and feeling equally happy and dirty. A part of her knew it wasn’t something she should be ashamed of, it was society telling her that a girl couldn’t be sexual without dire consequences. Another part of her knew that if Steve were there, he’d only encourage it. After they had sex on his couch that past Sunday, he’d kissed her again and again, not getting enough of her. Darcy was surprised they didn’t do it again, but she knew she was also exhausted. She imagined limping from the car when she got home, which wasn’t the case. She was even a little wistful about it.

Wednesday night, she was starved of his attention. It was after ten and she knew Steve was likely still at the office. Jane had gone to bed early, since work had been so crazy busy for people to get their appointments in before the New Year. Darcy had been ignoring most of her responsibilities for the past few days, including a text from her mom to call her sometime.

She knew she’d have to eventually tell her parents what happened at work, and how she was jobless again. She needed time to prepare, so there was no way she’d be calling her mom that night. She opened her messages to Steve. The last thing she said was agreeing to going with him to three events next weekend. She needed to buy some new clothes for them, she couldn’t get away with wearing the same dress four times in a row.

She was done watching some amateur couples going at it when she began to text Steve, not bothering to hold back how she was feeling.

**_I miss you_ **

He took a few minutes to reply, making her stomach flutter when the message finally popped up.

**_I miss you too baby_ **

**_I’m sorry_ **

It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault no-one was interested in hiring her during this time of year. She thought about demanding him to call her right now, but something stopped her. She couldn’t be demanding, it wasn’t in her nature. She still wanted his attention…

Darcy compromised by sending him a picture of her hand disappearing into her underwear. It wasn’t that far from what she’d been doing earlier, so it wasn’t like she was only posing.

 ** _Want you_** , she sent as an afterthought.

Her phone began to ring and she put it to her ear.

“Hi,” she breathed, a smile on her face.

“Hi,” he murmured. A shuffle of papers. “What if I was looking at my phone with a client in the room, or someone from the office?”

Darcy bit her lip, knowing he wasn’t seriously upset. In fact, she could practically hear the purr he was keeping out of his voice.

“You’re not even a little bit sorry, are you, sweetheart?”

“No,” she murmured, shaking her head though she knew he couldn’t see her.

She heard him swallow, and she pictured the movement, wishing he was there for her to lean over and lick, right over his Adam’s apple. She’d nip at his skin and suck at his throat. His fingers would dig into her hips as she writhed in his lap.

“That should be my hand, not yours,” he said, and Darcy heard the slight switch he made.

What began as an attempt to tell her he wanted to possess her turned into a guilty sigh at the end. Darcy’s smile fell.

“No…”

“So sweet, you sending it to me, though,” he murmured. “You could’ve sent it to anyone.”

Darcy didn’t know if he was serious. Did he think she had other men in her life? She’d never mentioned any of them, she’d never indicated she had someone else to text. Darcy immediately thought about Steve having other girls. Maybe she wasn’t that special –

“No, there’s only you,” she said, in a rush. “I only want you.”

“Yeah?” he murmured. “Then I’m _really_ lucky, Darcy.”

The pause between them was filled with an ambulance siren as it careened down Darcy’s street, her eyes darting to her window.

“Are you touching yourself now?” he asked, somewhat unexpected.

Darcy’s hand wasn’t in her shorts. She sucked in a breath.

“No…”

“You deserve to feel good, sweetheart,” he murmured, and Darcy felt herself flush, lying down with a little huff, shoving her right hand down her pants. “Why don’t you touch yourself now with me?”

 _With me_. God. He was killing her. Darcy’s eyes closed as she reached her clit, starting to rub.

“What about you?” she breathed. “Please?”

“Such a good girl, looking out for me,” he murmured with a little chuckle, and then Darcy heard the distinct sound of his belt unbuckling.

There was a rustle and then she heard the rasp of his skin.

“Keep thinking about the couch,” he said, and Darcy could hear it – the distinct squelching sound she’d otherwise be repulsed by, of Steve jerking himself off. “How good you were to me –”

“Fuck, me, too,” Darcy whispered, licking her lips.

“You using your hand, sweetheart?” he murmured, and Darcy made a little affirmative groan. “Wanna hear you use a toy, could you -?”

“Yeah,” Darcy said, and she was turning, fumbling her phone as she took out her vibrator she’d stashed away earlier.

She switched it on, keeping her lower half still covered by her blanket. She hoped Jane couldn’t hear. She didn’t think she’d ever heard Jane get off in the room next to her…

“I can hear it, buzzing away,” he whispered, and Darcy whimpered.

“Wish you were _here_ ,” she groaned, and he sighed, Darcy hearing him sped up. “Wish you were here…”

Her face was burning, and she’d never tried any of this before. She didn’t think she was all that good at dirty talk, but everything she said seemed to spur him on, Steve’s breathing changing.

“You’re gonna make me come, baby,” he breathed, beginning to laugh. “How did you do that so fucking fast?”

“Mmm,” Darcy whined, starting to shake. “I’m close, too –”

“Wish I was with you, disappearing inside you. So soft and warm, all for me –”

“I’m yours, I’m yours…”

She heard him give a long, low groan and she surrendered, following him, shuddering through her climax, hips lifting off the mattress. She nearly said it again, she nearly called him ‘Daddy’ but something stopped her, like it was too much, her mind telling her she wasn’t supposed to say it, no matter what.

She panted, hearing Steve do the same.

-

The next day, Darcy left to go buy some dresses at a vintage boutique. Steve said he couldn’t come with her, and Darcy was pleased he lavished her with attention every time she sent him a picture of each dress, telling her how much he wished he wasn’t stuck in meetings.

Darcy had never shopped like this on Fifth Avenue before. She saw women of every age shopping. Some of them were alone, others had a guard with them to carry their things. Some were with a male partner. Darcy spotted her first sugar baby with her daddy, and it was like a parody of everything Darcy had seen online. She was all pink and sparkly, while he was grey and refined, half a century between them in age. Darcy stared as they disappeared into a town car outside the Louis Vuitton store, her eyes averting when they left the curb.

She and Steve were different. He was thirteen years older than her, and Darcy was nowhere near as glamorous as that girl. Yet again she wondered what the hell Steve got out of this, but she pushed those thoughts aside when she saw her mom come up on her Caller ID.

She hesitated. If she was at her job, she’d be coming back from her lunch break, too busy to answer the call. She lived within the lie a little bit longer, letting her mom go to Voicemail, feeling her stomach sink. The good feelings she’d got from the praise Steve sent her for each dress she showed him began to dissipate, replaced with uneasiness she tried to smother by baking when she returned to Queens a little while later.

She had on _Love Actually_ as she iced her sugar cookies, and by the time she was finished the sun was beginning to set. Darcy felt a little better, deciding to clean the kitchen. By the time Jane arrived, the kitchen was filled with the crisp apple scent of the cleaners she used, plus a hint of bleach she poured into the drain.

“Okay… what happened? Did Steve break up with you?” Jane said.

The question caught Darcy off-guard, before she remembered Jane wasn’t privy to how important Steve was to her, hence why her words were a little harsh to her unsuspecting ears. Darcy frowned a little, tossing aside a dishrag.

“No. Why?”

“You only ever clean so you feel more in control, you told me that,” Jane said.

She shoved her beanie off her head.

“Did your mom call? It’s almost the first night of Hanukkah.”

“She tried to call me but I screened it,” Darcy said, avoiding Jane’s gaze. “I made cookies.”

Jane grabbed one, smiling as she bit into it. She was distracted enough to tell Darcy about her day, which Darcy was grateful for.

“I’ll be so glad when I’m gone,” Jane murmured, sometime later, when they were sitting on the couch, eating dinner.

Darcy half-assed dinner to make up for her baking efforts, eating cereal while Jane ate scrambled tofu on toast, both of them sipping hot chocolate in between bites.

“Don’t remind me,” Darcy muttered. “I hate when you’re gone. I don’t think I should legally be allowed to be alone.”

Darcy grumbled like this every year before Jane left for Florida.

“I’m gonna miss you, too. There are only so many of my parents’ friends I can stand before I tear my hair out. Almost literally.”

“Take some weed,” Darcy said, shrugging.

“How? Smuggle it in my shampoo bottle?” Jane retorted. “I can’t keep doing that all the time, it’s not cute anymore.”

Darcy felt herself tense a little in self-defense, wanting to argue, give reasons why it didn’t matter what was considered normal behaviour. Rich people did rich people drugs. Plenty of women were wine moms and that was socially acceptable. Darcy rolled her eyes instead, before her phone began to buzz.

“You better answer this time, Darce,” Jane murmured.

Darcy stared down at her phone, feeling her guts twist. She wished more than anything that it was Steve instead. She closed her eyes briefly, glancing at Jane.

“Microdose some shrooms instead, it’ll make lighting the menorah each night ten times better, with all the melting colors –”

“Darcy,” Jane cut in, nodding at her phone pointedly.

“Yeah, alright,” Darcy muttered, and she was up from her seat, answering the phone and taking her bowl with her.

She walked into the hallway and down into her room, shutting the door behind her before she said anything into the phone.

“Hey, Mom.”

“I’m glad you picked up for once, how are you?” her mom answered, and Darcy sat on her bed with a little sigh, spoon clinking in her bowl. “Are you eating dinner?”

“Yeah,” Darcy muttered. “What’s up, Mom?”

“Dad and I want to plan Christmas this week, so when can you get time off? Unless work doesn’t shut until Christmas Eve…?”

“Mom, I… I have a lot of time off at the moment,” Darcy said, haltingly. She looked down at her food, before setting the bowl aside. She winced. “I – I left my job last week.”

It was crazy to think she’d only known Steve for nine days. The silence to follow her admission was almost unbearable, and then her mom gave a long sigh.

“Oh, Darcy…”

“I didn’t explain what happened,” Darcy said, feeling her eyes sting. “You didn’t even let me.”

“What’s to explain? Was it too hard? I doubt it. You said you mostly made copies for people and got coffee orders.”

Darcy bit her lip. She’d spent her week sitting around masturbating and buying clothes. She was ridiculous. Her brother Adam probably saved a couple dozen lives in the last nine days, and Hannah would have made several million for her employer while investing.

 _It’s not cute anymore_. No, it really wasn’t. Darcy wanting to drink or do drugs to get through things, while other people just got on with it.

“Yeah, well,” Darcy mumbled. “I fucked up, what’s new?”

“What do you want me to _say_ , darling?” her mom said, exasperated. “It’s always the same story with you. Things get too hard and you quit. And what am I meant to tell your father, or Adam or Hannah?”

“The usual. Darcy fucked up again and she’s an embarrassment –”

“I never said that,” her mother snapped.

“Well, you never denied it!” Darcy yelled. “And I want someone to tell me what I’ve done right, but we all know it’s nothing. I can’t do _anything_ right.”

When her mom didn’t answer her, probably too stunned from her outburst, Darcy hung up. She began to sob, trying to smother it but failed, sniffling as she scrubbed at her eyes.

There was a knock and she startled, seeing Jane in the doorway, her lips pressed together, her brows knit.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Darcy said.

She got up from her bed, snatching up her bowl of cereal. She stalked into the kitchen and dumped it, Jane hanging back and watching her gather up her things, her wallet and keys.

“Where are you going?”

“To see Steve,” Darcy mumbled, even though something was telling her it was a bad idea.

He was probably too busy for her, understandably so. He wasn’t a child like her. He’d built a life for himself, over years of perseverance. Darcy had barely managed to scrape up her Bachelor’s degree, and she had done fuck all with it, anyway – and she’d probably never pay off her debts. She’d never have money of her own, only his, or a bank’s she’d lose sleep over.

She kept bullying herself as she raced back to her bedroom, grabbing underwear and then she swept into the bathroom to grab a toothbrush and her glasses case.

“Darcy, please be careful,” Jane said, and Darcy didn’t look at her, only nodded before she grabbed the front door to wrench it open.

She fired off a text:

**_Can I come over? Now?_ **

She stepped out into the night, shoving her headphones in as she turned up her music, putting her hands in her pockets as she walked. She knew she had an hour to calm down, but something told her she wouldn’t, in the time it took her to reach Manhattan.

-

Steve replied as she was on the B train.

**_Of course. I’m almost done here. I’ll meet you there._ **

Darcy walked as fast as she could without running, shivering as she weaved through the people in the street. A Santa Clause outside of a Macy’s wished her a Merry Christmas and Darcy ducked out of his way, not bothering to be polite with a smile or nod of her head.

She got to Steve’s apartment building, seeing Reggie from the other night, and he tipped her hat.

“Evening, Miss Lewis.”

Steve must have put her on some list so that the doormen knew to let her in. She gave a little nod, ducking inside. She stepped into the elevator and willed herself to relax, failing, shoving her headphones and phone away in her bag, passing a hand over her face.

When she got to Steve’s floor, it only took one knock before the door opened, revealing him in a t-shirt and lounge pants, his eyes widening as he stared down at her.

“Hey, are you okay -?”

She caught him in a hug, throwing her arms around his neck, and his arms folded around her.

“Hey,” he murmured. “Hey… it’s okay.”

Darcy’s eyes welled with fresh tears and she shook her head. She sniffled, feeling stupid, and Steve drew back, pulling her inside, shutting the door.

He leaned down, rubbing her arms over her coat.

“Talk to me, Darcy.”

Darcy looked away, down the long hallway to his living room, drawing in a shaky breath.

“I only ever fuck things up, okay? I’m not who you think I am.”

“Darcy…”

He gave a little smile, but she stepped back.

“No. _Listen_ to me. I am not good enough.”

His hands went to his sides and he stood up a little straighter, staring back at her. Darcy wiped her face fiercely, groaning, closing her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, and Darcy looked at him again, seeing he’d turned serious, like the moment he thought Bob Alec had caused the scuff on her knee.

She sat down on the couch in front of the fire, her phone call with her mom starting to pour out of her. She kept circling back to how it was her fault and every time Steve gave a little shake of his head but didn’t say a word, letting her speak.

His hand was on the back of her neck the whole time, while Darcy kept going and going.

“And now I’m here, while you were probably in the middle of something,” she mumbled. “I’m acting like it’s a big fucking emergency when it’s not.”

She felt more tears form, the embarrassment too immense for her to maintain eye contact with him anymore. She gave a groan, putting her face in her hands.

Steve said silent, his thumb and forefinger rubbing her vertebrae, before they skirted down her shoulder to her arm, then finally down to her hand.

“Come here…”

“Steve,” Darcy groaned. “I… I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” he said, but he didn’t sound impatient, only gentle.

“Both, I don’t know,” Darcy whined.

She got up, slipping out of his grip, sighing. He stayed seated, watching Darcy look into the fire and try to suck it up, shaking her head as she said:

“I’m gonna get a glass of water.”

“Okay.”

She walked out, hands balled into fists. She got to the sink, looking around for a glass belatedly, sensing Steve coming in. She went still, his arms wrapping around her middle, his lips on the back of her head.

“You can come to me whenever,” he whispered.

That couldn’t be true. Darcy shook her head.

“No…”

“Darcy,” he whispered.

She turned around and he cradled her face, leaning down to kiss her, light at first… and then he was tilting his head, deepening it, catching Darcy’s moan. He moved to the side of her face, pressing her into the sink, Darcy’s arms around his neck slipping down as Steve made his descent, kneeling in front of her.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

His big hands settled on her hips, pulling down the material of her leggings, Darcy’s breath hitching, their eyes glued to one another. When her cunt was exposed, she heard him suck in a breath, eyes falling down to the apex of her thighs.

“So pretty…”

He was probably talking to her pussy now but Darcy didn’t mind, she was already threading a hand through his hair, Steve closing in on her –

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, as his open mouth sealed over the opening of her.

He gave her everything, his tongue lapping deep inside her, his nose pressed up against her, his face grinding against her, his breath hot when he’d pull back for air. His hand slipped up under her shirt, under the cup of her bra, squeezing her breast as Darcy began to tremble.

“S-Steve, shit,” she hissed, her hips lifting off the bench as he suckled and rubbed her clit, fucking her with his tongue –

She came, the orgasm slamming into her, and she knew she sounded like she was choking, riding it out, Steve breathing her in. He didn’t waste a drop of her, kissing her all over her mound, pulling back when she’d stopped shaking, Darcy’s hands on his face.

“Come here,” he said again, and she nodded, Steve standing up –

He kissed her hard, messily and with enough intent for her to tremble again, remembering the time on the couch. He picked her up, walking her out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, her leggings hanging off one foot.

He lay her down, stripping off his shirt as Darcy did the same, their clothes falling away. Her hands glided up his chest, feeling the hair there, Steve’s mouth finding hers again hastily, like he couldn’t get enough –

“How do you want me?” he asked. “Tell me, baby –”

“Behind,” Darcy whispered, and he let out a little growl, turning her onto her stomach. “And… and we don’t need a condom, I’m on the pill.”

She never told him that. Her only excuse was that she was too turned on by watching him put one on last time to tell him it wasn’t necessary.

“I’m clean,” she added, glancing over her shoulder, Steve moving up to meet her. “You?”

He nodded, and Darcy took the rough kiss he gave her, whimpering when he rubbed up against her with the crown of his cock.

“I’ll go slow,” he murmured, popping inside but going still, making Darcy let out a little whine of impatience.

“No, I want it…”

He pushed further in, obliging her, Darcy’s whine melting into another moan, turning her head to push it into the blankets, her hands scrambling.

He was so deep it was hard to keep still or quiet. When he began to rock back and forth, Darcy gripped the sheets for purchase, and then he was arching her back, hitting a spot that made her want to cry.

His fingers digging into her ass cheek drove her crazy. He couldn’t stop grabbing her with his huge hands, he didn’t hide what she made him feel.

“Wanna come inside you so bad,” he whispered, leaning down and kissing her neck, her shoulders, hips snapping.

He pulled back, giving it to her.

“Can I, baby? Can I come inside you?”

“Y-yes,” Darcy stammered, shivering. “Yes, please –”

“Fuck, you feel so good…”

It bordered on too much again, Steve railing her into the mattress. He picked up the pace, hand slipping under Darcy’s front to find her clit, Darcy’s teeth gritting. It was all wet slaps and moans that filled Steve’s room, and then he was talking again, breathless:

“Not finishing until you, baby. Wanna take care of you, first…”

“Steve…”

He pinched and rolled her clit, Darcy going still as she tightened up, turning her head into the sheets again to smother her near-hysterical groaning.

“That’s my girl,” Steve said, and he was laughing, panting, sounding awestruck.

She felt a little trickle down her thigh, her vision turning white as she turned her head for a gulp of air. She recovered long enough to feel Steve speed up, laying his hand flat against her cunt instead, leaving her abused clit throbbing under his fingers instead as he had his fill of her.

Darcy felt far away, floating somewhere in between the bed and the ceiling, Steve leaning down to kiss her again, all teeth and tongue. When they broke apart, Darcy whispered, fuckdrunk:

_“Daddy…”_

Steve choked out: “Fuck.”

He came, shoving up into her, his forehead pressed into the back of Darcy’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...yep
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	7. vii. Thank You Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shorter, a filler chapter. but sweet and fluffy and a little squishy... like... the middle of a marshmallow. lookit.

_I've got no space and you've got no time_  
_If we jump up and down together, maybe we'll be fine_  
_But I know, I know, I know it aches_  
**\- "Never Start" by Middle Kids**

**vii. Thank You Baby**

Darcy didn’t remember going to sleep last night, but she did recall a vague memory of cleaning up and flopping back down on Steve’s bed and curling on her side.

She woke the next morning to see his sleeping form up-close, his long lashes against his cheeks, his lips parted. It was earlier than she was used to. The blinds did not reach the floor and the pre-dawn Manhattan sky that crept under it gave the room a wash of blue. Steve’s skin glowed as Darcy peered at him closer, seeing his hair was sticking up.

He had a dust of freckles, which she had noticed on his face, but she saw the ones across his shoulders and arms now, her eyes drifting down, and she wondered if he was naked. She’d put on underwear but no bra, the thick blankets and Steve’s body enough to keep her warm.

She carefully drew herself up, peeling the blanket away. She moved as quietly as possible into the bathroom, shutting the door with a soft click.

She smelt of sex, and the girl in the mirror looked messy. Her eye makeup was still on, in little smudges she hadn’t cried off last night. Darcy lowered her arms, her boobs jiggling. She looked away, not wanting to dwell on any assessment she made. She peed, attempted to comb her hair with her fingers, and slipped back into the bedroom.

“Darcy?” she heard Steve murmur, before he drew in a deep breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t wanna wake you,” she said, moving back toward the bed, slipping under the covers.

She gave a little shiver, watching as Steve scratched his beard and stretched, yawning. He ground the heel of his palm in his eye, clearing his throat. He gave a little smile, lying back down on his side like Darcy was, facing one another.

“Something… on my face?” she murmured, giving her own little smile.

His hand moved up from under the blanket, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

“No, I’m just lookin’,” he murmured back. “You stayed all night.”

“Yeah, is that – is that okay?” Darcy said.

She knew he was meant to be working. It was Friday. Maybe he had some rule before with other girls that they didn’t do anything during the working week. If that was the case, it was a little unfair, because Darcy was sure he worked seven days each week. He barely stopped. She was also pretty sure that if it wasn’t the holidays, he wouldn’t be doing any events, either.

He gave a little nod.

“We keep having sex,” she added, and his brows lifted.

“Yeah, it’s a problem,” he said.

They watched one another for another minute before Darcy broke the silence, Steve’s knuckles stroking her shoulder.

“I… I said something, last night,” Darcy said, and Steve blinked, eyes searching her face. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Do you _want_ to talk about it?” he said, and Darcy loved the rumble of his voice too much.

He was sleepy but so sexy, like his switch was perpetually on, or Darcy’s switch was always on. She bit her lip, taking a deep breath.

“I… don’t know how to talk about it without feeling embarrassed, or weird. I think I’m supposed to feel a certain way and then…”

She’d called him ‘Daddy’. She hadn’t imagined saying it, she’d for real whispered it and Steve was able to hear it. She was quite certain it made him come hard, hearing it. She was sure every girl had thought about calling a guy ‘Daddy’. The overwhelming consensus tended to be that it was gross and weird, and for the longest time Darcy had felt the same way. She had never met a man she’d wanted to call ‘Daddy’. The word itself didn’t have anything to do with her own father, she knew that, it was more a word she wanted to give Steve like he gave her ‘sweetheart’ or ‘baby’.

What did it mean to him, to hear that? Did he get off on how young she was? Did it have something to do with his childhood? Darcy didn’t want to think too deeply about it. Maybe it was just a word, and what it meant to her meant something different to another girl.

She thought of the sugar baby she saw yesterday coming out of Louis Vuitton, and maybe she called her friend ‘Daddy’. It didn’t affect Darcy, she didn’t think. The girl wasn’t acting _like_ a baby, herself. That was a whole other kink.

Was this a kink, or was it just something Darcy had turned into her own thing?

“You’re thinking,” Steve said, and Darcy blinked at him, aware that she’d trailed off some time ago.

“Overthinking,” she amended, and he smiled again. “I… I don’t know if I’ll always call you…”

She flushed.

“‘Daddy’”.

“Okay,” he murmured. He turned a little, toward the doorway. “You want some coffee?”

So she didn’t have to explain. She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. He was so easy with her, it felt like a trick. He had to be the real deal – except, she’d only known him for less than a month. Darcy nodded, watching Steve pull back the blankets, standing up.

He wore underwear, then. They hugged the curves off his butt, Darcy openly staring as he moved toward the door, his fingers scratching his bare back as he departed.

Darcy rolled over, reaching for her phone. She texted Jane that she was okay, and she hoped that was enough for her not to worry too much. She knew she’d been a mess last night, but her family felt all so far away because of Steve.

He returned with two mugs, passing one to Darcy, who took it gratefully, sipping as Steve slipped back under the blankets.

“Didn’t kiss you good morning yet,” he murmured, and his hand slipped down to grip her waist, Darcy’s body turning into his, her mug put aside.

Darcy kissed him, a short peck, pulling back to look him in the eye.

“You do that a lot,” he said, confusing her a little.

“What?”

“You shy away from me,” he said, and Darcy felt her cheeks flush once more.

He was so honest, she wasn’t used to it. No mind games. No cards pressed to his chest. She swallowed.

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t want to be too much, maybe you don’t want me to kiss you,” she said.

“What?” he said, and he gave a little chuckle.

He kissed her, clutching her jaw with his fingers, keeping her in place as he poured himself into it, Darcy’s belly turning molten hot in seconds, his tongue stroking hers, beard scratching her skin.

Darcy gave a little moan, unable to keep it in, when he rolled on top of her, slotting between her thighs. He didn’t rock into her, only kissed her with the thoroughness of any thrust of his hips had given her last night. He was so _good_ , peering down at her when she drew back for air, their noses brushing.

“How come you didn’t sleep next to me when I was here the other night?” Darcy whispered.

“I was trying to be a gentleman,” he said. “Respecting boundaries.”

So he did have some sense of that, not that Darcy had any, really. She didn’t think she’d made anything all too clear to him.

“Do you… want me to sleep with anyone else?” she said, and his face changed.

“Do you mean a _friend_ of mine, or -?”

“No, I –” Darcy felt foolish, using Big Girl words like ‘slept with’ instead of ‘fuck’. “I wanna know if this is exclusive. Or if you’re doing this with any other girls.”

“I’m not,” he said. “You can go through my emails or my phone if you want proof –”

“What?” Darcy said, a little horrified. “I would never, I trust you…”

“I meant for peace of mind, Darce,” he said, lips brushing hers. He gave a slow peck, her lip between his two.

“But… you’d be okay with that, if I was fucking another other guy?” Darcy said, licking her lips.

“It’s not my business,” he said, but she sensed a shift in him.

“You don’t want me to be fucking some boy, though?” she said, and she leaned up, kissing him.

She tugged him down, pressing his chest into hers, Steve grunting, when she pushed her tongue past his lips, her fingers sliding into his hair, tugging a little.

They kept at it until she needed air, breaking apart, a little breathless, lips still bumping.

“No, I don’t want you fucking any boys,” he mumbled.

“So _tell_ me that,” Darcy retorted. “Tell me exactly what you’re thinking.”

He took hold of her face, eyes boring into hers. His eyes fell to her lips for a couple seconds, and then back up to her gaze.

“You’re mine.”

She’d never had this before. She nodded, willingly. She was his. She didn’t want anyone else, she hadn’t lied when she said that to him on the phone on Wednesday, hearing him jerk off. She’d never been referred to as ‘my girl’, either. It was all so new, it felt too good to be true.

He didn’t stop holding her or kissing her. He was so cuddly, and Darcy wondered how many people knew that about him, that he was the type to hold someone that tight.

She was lost in his arms, until his phone began to chime over and over. It was his alarm. Steve sighed, reaching over to grab his phone and shut it off.

“You have to go,” Darcy murmured.

Steve let his eyes travel around the room, and he swallowed, a small smile forming.

“I’ll work from home today,” he murmured eventually, and his eyes slipped down to hers.

He gave her a softer, lingering kiss, Darcy’s eyes closing as she rode the sleepy, happy wave again. When he drew back, she cupped his face.

“I don’t want to fuck up your schedule.”

“Nah, I’ll just call Desi, she’ll be happy to not have my annoying ass in the office today…”

There was something endearing about him referring to his assistant as ‘Desi’ and not ‘Desiree’ like he did when they were at the gala last Saturday.

He rolled off of Darcy finally, peering down at his phone, checking his emails. Darcy rose a hand, tracing the shell of his ear with her finger tip, then slipped her hand up to his hair, beginning to stroke. He gave a soft sound akin to a groan, closing his eyes for a second.

“That distracting?” she murmured.

“Yeah, it’s really…”

He slumped a little, chuckling.

“That feels really fucking good.”

He dropped face-first in his pillow, his phone forgotten, Darcy giggling as she kept going, scratching his scalp. She pressed a kiss to his neck, wishing there was some way she could memorize the scent of his skin behind his ear.

His phone began to buzz and he shot his head back up, grabbing his phone. Darcy drew back, with a short kiss to his shoulder, as he answered it.

“Hey, Desi… listen…”

It was barely after seven in the morning. Darcy assumed his assistant called each morning to remind him what meetings he had. Darcy’s stomach grumbled, distracting her, as Steve rolled onto his back, pinching the bridge of his nose.

She moved away, slipping out from under the bed covers, ducking down to grab Steve’s shirt from last night to tug over her head. As she slipped past him to get to the door, he reached out, just missing her, Darcy darting away with a little giggle.

It was disgusting how much she was enjoying this.

She walked into the kitchen and looked around, finding eggs. She cracked some open, using a fork to whisk them. Steve had cheese, and some salt and pepper in the cupboard. In fact, a lot of his spice rack looked completely untouched. He didn’t have a lot of food in this apartment, but plenty of booze in the fridge. Some still had labels on them, Thank You notes and Happy Holiday labels.

Darcy couldn’t find a tray, so she just carried the plates to Steve’s bedroom, nudging the door wide open with her hip, Steve’s brows hiking when he saw her come in with a couple omelettes for them.

Steve was still talking, eyes on Darcy as she put his food on his bedside table. She sat down on the edge of his bed, knees crossed as she tucked in.

She felt a real sense of pride when he hung up, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“You made me breakfast?”

“Yeah,” she murmured, ducking her eyes to her plate, chewing.

“Thank you so much…”

Darcy swallowed, looking at him as he started to eat, checking if he was covering what he really felt with too much praise. Nobody could be that enthusiastic…

“Thank you, baby,” he said, softer, chewing and starting to smile.

Darcy stared at him, forgetting her own food for a couple minutes as she devoted all her attention to him, wanting more praise, or wanting him to break the spell. The spell being how affectionate he was toward her. Darcy couldn’t admit to any of this out loud, how desperate she was for him to like her, all the time, no matter what. She didn’t know where this was coming from.

She went back to eating when his phone buzzed again. He answered it, Lawyer Voice on. She picked up her plate and walked out, deciding to open the blinds in the rest of the apartment to see the sunlight. She sat by the window, on the floor, her knees drawn up, allowing herself to look down at the life below.

Eventually, Steve came out, still on the phone but his plate was empty. Darcy had already put hers in the dishwasher and wiped everything down in the kitchen. She heard him make another coffee, coming back to hand it to her wordlessly, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She showered, stole another shirt of Steve’s, and then sat on the couch to watch a movie on a low volume while Steve worked. It was mid-morning by the time he took a break, passing a hand over his face and sighing.

“It’s alright,” he said, before she could ask. “Just a lot of money involved, a lot of… emotions running high. I probably shouldn’t be the head of this team, I dunno…”

“What do you mean?” Darcy said, peering at his table full of papers, Steve’s laptop open in front of him.

“This other consultant is probably the better choice for our client. He’s more… aggressive.”

Steve sounded like he was being too polite.

“He sounds like an asshole,” Darcy said, and he smirked, tapping his nose.

His phone buzzed and he closed his eyes, murmuring something about Mary, Mother of God and Darcy watched him answer it, clearing his throat. He didn’t seem happy, but she didn’t know whether or not it helped to point this out. It might be that she was wrong and he’d tell her she didn’t know what she was talking about. Darcy couldn’t stand the thought of Steve being condescending to her, especially because he hadn’t been so far, and they had their age gap.

Darcy watched him with her elbow resting on the couch, not paying attention to the TV. Steve kept frowning at his laptop, mouse clicking.

“Yeah. I’ll read it again, see if it – yeah. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up, eyes meeting Darcy’s. He sat back in his chair, and Darcy wasted no time, standing from the couch, wandering over to him. He reached for her, pulling her into his lap, tucking his face in her neck as he wrapped his arms around her, one hand petting her butt.

“Save me,” he murmured.

His phone began to buzz again and Darcy mimed throwing it out the window, making Steve chuckle. He tilted his head at her, hand cupping her jaw. He kissed her, slowly, completely, his phone ignored. It went to Voicemail, only to start up again.

Darcy broke away, picking it up. Steve peered down at the display, jaw ticking.

“Mr Asshole himself?” Darcy murmured.

“Yeah…”

A beat.

“You answer it,” Steve said.

Darcy did, Steve watching her, his smile creeping back.

“Hello, Steve’s phone.”

“Uh, hi. This is Brock Rumlow, I was trying to give him a call. Desiree said he wasn’t in today.”

“She’s right, he’s very unwell,” Darcy murmured, frowning with faux-seriousness, Steve’s chuckle low and rumbling in his chest. “Can I take a message, or -?”

“Could you put him on, sweetheart? It’s very important.”

Darcy retracted her jaw a little, not appreciating how quick it was for him to show he was entitled. She was a stranger, what was he like with Steve when they worked together?

“But _I’m_ very important, Rick,” Darcy said, putting a hand on her chest.

“Brock.”

“My apologies,” Darcy said, voice flatter. “He’ll call you later.”

She hung up, Steve snorting.

-

Both of them panting and sweaty, Steve rolled off of her. The carpet was very soft, which was good – since they didn’t manage to get much further than the dining room chair.

Their shoulders brushing, Steve grinned at her, Darcy doing the same.

“I have to leave at some point. To get ready for tonight,” she murmured.

“Yeah…”

His hand reached out, rubbing her arm. Darcy made the short distance to kiss him, and then he was pushing her back, making her giggle, hitching her thigh back over his hip.

Giggles turned back to moans and Darcy couldn’t stop chanting in her head:

_I’m his, I’m his, I’m his…_

When it was over, Steve kept kissing her, watching her, the reverence there undeniable. Darcy couldn’t name what she was feeling, not yet. He cuddled her to his chest, breathing her in and keeping her warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next time - parties! more faking dating (if... it even counts anymore because these two are at it like rabbits FOR A REASON)
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	8. viii. Rogers, You Bastard

_I ain't blind_  
_Just a matter of time_  
_Before you steal it_  
_It's alright_  
_Ain't no blood in my eye_  
**\- Gold on the Ceiling by The Black Keys**

_It's the kind of cold, fogs up windshield glass_  
_But I felt it when I passed you_  
_There's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me_  
_But if it's all the same to you_  
_It's the same to me_  
_So we could call it even_  
_You could call me "babe" for the weekend_  
_'Tis the damn season, write this down_  
**\- 'tis the damn season' by Taylor Swift**

**viii. Rogers, You Bastard**

They didn’t end up going to the event on the Friday. The rest of the day and night, Darcy was in the same room as Steve almost the entire time. They ate pizza, spent longer kissing and holding each other than not, clothes tugged on and off again and again –

Darcy knew it was ridiculous. It was corny and if she heard about it happening to someone she knew, she’d roll her eyes, it was so corny, but he made her feel some type of way.

The second she left the apartment, finally, to go back home to get ready for the Saturday night event, she kept checking her phone, wanting a sign it hadn’t been a dream. She tried to remember another time she was like this, and she was younger then, in college with her first serious boyfriend. It was intense and so, so lame now that she reflected fully… but she didn’t think this was the same.

I get it, she thought. I get why people are like this. I get why the girls clutch their faces and squeal when their man gets down on one knee.

-

Her outfit choice was a bold one, at least for her. It was ambitious. It made her think of the popular girls in high school, how they dressed like grown women, always looking so bored but beautiful, all pouty lips and scowls. There was a power to it – wearing something that catered to the male gaze only not to smile. Darcy hadn’t noticed that until now, when she zipped up the gold lamé gown at the back, flipping her hair to the side. She’d spent hours putting herself together, like last week, but this time she felt so different.

She felt like she knew more about what she was in for, and since she’d done so well last time she knew what she was capable of. It didn’t stop her stomach from fluttering with nervous butterflies, heart picking up speed when Steve texted her he’d arrived downstairs.

Jane, who for once hadn’t grilled Darcy about Steve, had watched her piece this all together. She held Darcy’s purse, brow hitching further up.

“Have fun,” she said. Her eyes dipped. “That makes your tits look huge.”

“Thank you, I grew them myself,” Darcy murmured, making a surly face in the mirror. “This is Dynasty Barbie. Onto her fourth husband, divorce pending. Opulence.”

“You are _really_ feeling yourself,” Jane said, a little in awe.

To her friend’s credit, she rarely saw her like this unless she was drunk.

“I’m off to eat the rich, you want any?” Darcy murmured, taking her purse and slipping out of the bathroom, before she snorted into her shoulder. “I don’t want you to go hungry, Janey –”

“What the hell kind of voice are you trying to put on?”

“Something transatlantic,” Darcy murmured, voice changing back to her own. “It’s less nails on a chalkboard…”

She walked down the stairs slower than last time, wearing different shoes. She held the bottom of her dress, letting it fall when she reached Steve, whose hands were deep in his pockets, giving her that half smile she’d memorized.

“Hello,” he said. “You look…”

For whatever reason, of all the people she’d see tonight, she didn’t want to hear his compliments. Last time he saw her, she was come-sticky, her glasses smudged with fingerprints. Now, she stood a little taller in her heels, wearing a dress that hugged her hips, the plunging neckline showing the majority of her ample cleavage, her hair up in a fancy chignon that made Darcy’s hands ache from trying to construct.

“Thanks,” Darcy cut in, smiling up at him. “Nice suit.”

It was similar to the last one, sharp but unassuming. He wore a bow tie this time.

The drive over, Steve slipped a hand under the seat like last time, retrieving a small box. Darcy watched as he opened it, revealing a sparkling bangle.

“Wow,” Darcy murmured. “When did you pick this up?”

“I didn’t, Desi did,” Steve murmured. “Can I put it on?”

Darcy nodded. It made her think of Wonder Woman’s magic bangles, watching as Steve turned her wrist and slipped it on with ease. Darcy leaned toward him, his hand on her thigh. The material of her dress was pretty thin, and she was able to feel the warm weight of his palm squeezing her affectionately as if she had nothing on. Darcy was grateful for her lipstick choice, one that bragged to be smudge-proof no matter what situation. One sugar baby online said it got her through spaghetti and meatballs _and_ a sloppy blowjob in the same night.

Steve’s hand came up to cup her jaw, deepening it, his hand slipping under her dress to feel her bare skin. Darcy let out a happy little sigh, aware the partition was up. She didn’t know how far she was willing to go, but the second he pulled back, eyes darker, she wondered if they should bail on this, too…

“What’re you thinking about?” he whispered, voice rough.

“Thinking I wanna thank you for the bracelet,” Darcy whispered back, her hand beginning to wander, slipping down his front to his belt.

His eyes followed the movement, throat bobbing, and his fingers slid up her inner thigh, Darcy’s lips beginning to curl. His eyes flashed at her mischief, both hands on his belt now, unbuckling it. She moved closer, pressing a kiss to his neck, Steve’s arm coming around to pull her closer still.

He let out a little groan when she reached inside his pants to wrap her hands around his shaft, beginning to stroke, her other hand cupping his balls.

“You don’t have to thank me…”

“Maybe I want you right now,” Darcy whispered.

She felt powerful, damn near unstoppable. She was committing to this sugar baby persona, a girl that did what she wanted and was rewarded for it every time. She was wanted, so wanted by Steve. She could feel the precome beginning to form, his grip on her waist tightening.

She drew back from his neck and he caught her in a searing kiss, Darcy moaning at how he took over, fingers wrapping around her wrist to make her stop.

She pulled back, a little confused, her mask slipping.

“I don’t wanna finish unless I’m inside you,” he whispered, which surprised her.

“You don’t like handjobs?” Darcy asked, tilting her head a little.

The car gave a short lurch, bringing reality back, and Darcy pulled away from him, the spell breaking. She felt her face flush, remembering her dress. God, her dress. It was so beautiful but it wasn’t her at all – wasn’t that the point, though?

She quickly, without trying to seem too desperate to do so, shoved aside her mounting insecurities. Steve didn’t dress like this all the time, either, and Darcy’s favorite version of him was all sleepy and rumpled.

“You okay?” Steve said, and she nodded, giving a little smile. His hand withdrew from under her dress and he put everything else back in place, Darcy’s back pressing into the seat behind her, her eyes forward.

“I got a little worked up, about the jewelry,” she said. “I…”

She didn’t know how to explain that she felt obligated without turning this into some fucked up situation. Steve had never expected her to fuck him for cash or gifts, he’d said that. She kept smiling at him every so often, trying her best, feeling strange.

She didn’t like this, she realized, belatedly, when they arrived at their destination. She didn’t like the anticipation, the way her stomach was tightening with nerves, how Steve was so put-together like she was, his nose in his phone, typing away.

They stepped out, Darcy taking Steve’s arm as they walked toward a flight of stairs, their coats on their shoulders.

“What type of party is this one?” Darcy asked, breaking their silence.

She meant to ask days ago. All she knew was it was held by a client of the firm’s, a corporate gathering of hundreds of people.

Steve’s eyes were ahead of them, and he gave a sigh.

“It’s very fun,” he said on exhale. “Lotta headaches…”

She couldn’t imagine how awful it would be to be alone at an event like this, like Steve had been last year. If she was him, she’d get super drunk, and then probably humiliate herself in true Darcy fashion like she did whenever she went home for the holidays.

All Darcy saw when they reached the top of the stairs was money. Old, new… it was all there. They saw the quick glimpse of the crowd disappearing inside the double doors, before they disappeared to the side to drop of their coats. The rooms were toasty, deep burgundy shades like the Grand Overlook Hotel in _The Shining_ , which did not sit well with Darcy.

Perhaps she should have gone for a more modest dress, seeing some of the other folks among the crowd. Darcy wondered if she’d get some stares, and then she’d definitely be hiding in the bathroom like at prom.

Frank Sinatra played as they drifted through to a ball room.

_Have yourself a merry little Christmas…_

The dude could pull a tune, Darcy wouldn’t ever deny it. She loved Ol’ Blue Eyes, but hearing him reminded her of her father playing his records this time of year. Instead of dwelling, Darcy pretended she’d slipped into another time, when this would be playing on the wireless, and her dress would be racy, but not altogether out of fashion. Marilyn Monroe wore a dress like this once, sixty years ago…

“Steven! Hello!” came a voice.

Steve’s face shifted and Darcy remained by his side, which meant being tugged over to a middle-aged man in a tuxedo, his hands covered in gold rings that he grabbed Steve with.

“Hi, George,” Steve said. “This is Darcy.”

“She belongs on top of that goddamn tree in Rockefeller Center,” George said, peering at Darcy exactly how she didn’t want to be looked at. “Holy _shit_ , Rogers.”

God. Her tits really _were_ huge. Why did she think a halter top cut like this was a practical thing? At least she had enough tape to keep it in place. Some other men turned to look at her, because George didn’t conceal his voice for polite society like Steve did.

“And how did you meet this little one?” George added, not letting Steve say a word.

Darcy didn’t like any of this. _Little_ one? It was so babyish. Darcy was sure she looked a little older with all this stupid makeup on.

“Don’t tell me _this_ is Desiree, your secretary,” George went on.

“No, this is Darcy,” Steve corrected, hand on her back, palm brushing skin. “But we did meet at the firm.”

“You’re not old enough to be a lawyer, kiddo,” George said to Darcy. He stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. “You barely look old enough to drink –”

“Oh, thank you,” Darcy babbled, so uncomfortable a giggle bubbled up.

“- Rogers, you _bastard_ ,” he said, with a fondness Darcy despised.

Was Steve living the dream with someone as young as her? Darcy wasn’t sure. Her mind went to Bucky, thinking of how he’d said she was Steve’s type. Maybe his ‘type’ was just young.

Darcy pulled back from his grip, Steve’s hand on her back again, their eyes meeting when George launched into a tirade about some case Steve was privy to. Bing Crosby took over above their heads and Darcy leaned up to whisper in Steve’s ear:

“I’m gonna get a drink…”

“Oh, is she bored of us already?” George said, and Darcy felt her cheeks heat. He pouted at her a little.

Darcy couldn’t believe that men acted like this without consequence. Steve’s face must have changed because George began to chuckle.

“I’m joking, I’m _joking_ ,” he said, and he smacked Steve’s chest. “Lighten up, Rogers. It’s Christmas.”

“It’s December 12th,” Steve retorted, but he didn’t sound that mad.

Darcy slipped away, not saying a word, feeling Steve’s hand squeeze her all the same. She could feel eyes on her as she tried to weave through the sea of strangers, wishing to God that she’d lighten up, because otherwise this was going to be a long fucking night.

She reached the bar, which was a long white table, its edges covered in tinsel and fairy lights, Darcy’s elbows leaning as she hopped onto a stool as gracefully as possible.

“Hey –”

The barkeep seemed busy, but she was definitely ignored the first time, sagging a little as she couldn’t get her request out, the man behind the counter turning his back on her.

“Sweetheart, it’s better if you don’t raise your hand or click your fingers,” came a voice, one Darcy recognized. “You’re not hailing a cab.”

Darcy turned her head, seeing a man with dark hair, his brown eyes drawing her in. He was her type. Older and confident, watching her like he actually knew what to do with her, instead of the general confusion she saw from other men. No apprehension whatsoever.

He looked like he’d fuck her like he was mad at her. She wondered why he was leaning over so close.

“Saw you arrive with Rogers,” he added. “He seems better than yesterday.”

Brock. Brock Rumlow from the firm, the lawyer she hung up on. Her lips parted, and he saw her put the pieces together, baring his teeth in a grin.

“So, what’s the story you’re telling him?” he went on. “Because he bores me to tears, I’m just curious what any girl would pretend to be interested in to keep him.”

Darcy knew what he was doing. He was trying to get back at her for being disrespectful. His left hand bore a wedding ring, which led Darcy to believe his wife had these types of punishments.

“Unless…”

“Unless?” Darcy returned.

He grinned, too close to her now to not be threatening. “You’re a rental. Can’t say I’d complain if that was the case.”

“Aren’t lawyers rentals, too?” Darcy murmured. “You’re paid by the hour.”

He lowered his voice further, to a hiss, fingers reaching up to brush her bare shoulder, so that if anyone were watching them they’d see a flirty little exchange.

“You look _cheap_ , sweetheart. And I know the most expensive thing you own is the Tiffany bracelet you’ve got on. Next time you answer his phone, put him on. Do not hang up on me.”

Darcy watched him, suppressing her scowl, as he slipped back.

“Enjoy the night,” he said, and he turned away, leaving her at the bar.

She stared after him. Nat King Cole filled her ears and she felt numb, turning back to the barkeep when he’d disappeared into the crowd.

“Hey, I need about a – a _quart_ of vodka,” she said, a little louder than before, the man that ignored her earlier freezing.

Their eyes met and Darcy gave a little shrug.

“Maybe a little champagne,” she amended, and he gave a nod.

-

Darcy stayed at the bar, sipping her champagne and keeping herself occupied with her phone. She was an accessory. She didn’t need to interact with anyone. It was clear that she didn’t belong. She glanced down at the bracelet, wondering why he got it.

She didn’t know if she liked it. She’d loved the necklace he gave her, but this was different. Had Desiree picked it out for him?

She turned a little in her seat, not seeing Steve.

**_Where are you?_ **

He took a couple minutes to reply, probably because he was mid-conversation with some other colleague. Darcy leaned down to scratch her knee, unladylike but not caring who saw her. She gave a sigh.

**_You still at the bar?_ **

**_Yes…_** she replied. Was that a little passive aggressive? She didn’t find herself minding either way. It felt like she didn’t need to be there. She wasn’t spending any real time with him, and she was this ornament to gawk at, silent and slowly drinking her flute of champagne.

He appeared, before he was side tracked by another stranger, and Darcy drew in a breath, watching him several feet away talk to another suit. 

**_Daddy_ **

She watched him take out his phone, while still talking, lips parting as he read her message, his brows shifting slightly up. He began to type, as the other man talked.

**_I’m busy, I’m sorry. Turns out I missed out on something last night._ **

Darcy replied, without much thought:

**_You didn’t miss out on anything because you were with me_ **

She swore she saw him give a little smile at her retort as he read it.

 ** _I still have to work_** , he wrote.

Darcy pouted, putting her chin in her hand, watching him look toward her. The smile he gave looked tired, but real. She watched him slip the Lawyer mask back on as someone new arrived, shaking his hand and hitting his shoulder.

Darcy turned back to her glass of champagne and finished it. She ordered another.

-

The night stretched on and Darcy was sick of scrolling through Instagram. She texted Jane that she was bored, but Jane had gone out with some Culver friends. It was her last night in New York before she headed to Florida tomorrow. Darcy had managed to forget that, feeling guilty, knowing she’d spent too much time with Steve. Jane didn’t seem offended by any of it, and she wasn’t inclined to lie about that type of thing. Maybe she was a little relieved Darcy had someone while she was gone, unlike last year.

Steve hadn’t shared what his plans were for Christmas itself. They’d only ever talked about these stupid work events. Tomorrow was a luncheon with an old client, exclusive to the partners and their significant others. Darcy didn’t know how she was meant to enjoy that if tonight was like this.

A man gave a short groan as he pushed in next to her, bumping Darcy’s elbow in the process.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I’m just trying to get a beer.”

He seemed older, tired and not bothering to hide it. His hair was vaguely auburn, what was left of it. He rubbed his face, clicking his fingers at the barkeep.

“Hey, kid. I need a beer or I’m gonna shoot myself in the head, alright?”

The barkeep sprang into action, the ginger man grumbling under his breath.

“Fuckin’ Christmas…”

“Are… you alright?” Darcy asked, bored (and a little tipsy) enough to inquire.

“Why, do I seem a little tense?” he retorted.

His accent sounded like something out of Boston. Darcy felt her lips quirk with amusement as he took the bottle of beer that slid in front of him, slapping some notes down on the glass for the barkeep to pocket.

“God knows these assholes don’t pay them enough,” he muttered, finally glancing at Darcy properly.

He paused, a little taken aback. Darcy felt herself preen a little, within, that this grumpy fifty-something year-old guy stopped in his tracks for her.

“Oh, brother, I am not drunk enough,” he muttered, glancing away. “You’re making me feel all types of ugly.”

Darcy didn’t know what to say, blinking at him as he rolled his eyes, sipping his beer.

“I’m sure you’re nice, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Darcy replied. “I’m not having the best night, to be honest.”

“Why, are you dating one of these assholes?”

“Kinda,” Darcy said. “But mostly I’m just here for him to not come alone… then I ended up alone at the bar, anyway.”

“Just don’t marry him,” the guy said, eyes widening for emphasis. “Don’t marry into this shit. And don’t marry _anyone else_ into this… it… doesn’t work out.”

He was definitely talking from experience. Darcy watched him sip more beer, mirroring him with her champagne.

“Not a bad pick-up line,” Darcy said, and he gave a snort, glancing at her again.

“I’m all types of ugly and old,” he said, and Darcy gave a little smile, shaking her head.

“You’d be surprised…”

They lapsed into silence and Darcy glanced at her phone again, seeing Steve hadn’t sent anything else. She craned her head, seeing he was a little closer, but still too far away for her to feel better. He was listening to something Pat, the especially tall woman from last week, was saying, smiling up at her. Darcy didn’t feel jealous, only lonely. Luckily, there was no sign of Brock.

“Are you the marrying type?” the man asked, and Darcy glanced back at him.

She thought of her parents. She thought of her brother Adam and Hannah. She didn’t ever picture her wedding day. She’d only ever wanted an apartment with a decent internet connection and maybe a couple pets. A dog no-one wanted. A cat that scratched everyone but her.

“No,” she murmured. “Marriage is a trap.”

“And – what about love?”

“I don’t know enough about it to know if it’s real,” she said. “A little like astrology… or misaligned chakras.”

The stranger sat up a little straighter and Darcy saw Steve in her peripheral vision, turning her head toward him, seeing his hands by his sides, no warmth in his eyes like before.

Darcy gave a little smile, uncertain of whether she should. “Steve –”

“I was leaving,” he said, and she nodded.

She glanced at the stranger. “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise,” he said, beer at his lips one more.

Steve was already walking away and Darcy heard him add:

“Good luck.”

The music swelled around her, another Nat King Cole number, this time _Silent Night_. What usually stirred some type of feeling in Darcy only left her feeling cold, following Steve as fast as her heels would allow her, finally managing to slip her hand into his. He didn’t wrench it away.

She knew something was off, because he didn’t say a word to her as they retrieved their coats. He didn’t kiss her, touch her in any way that indicated that he couldn’t stop himself. He was being polite, letting her touch him however she wanted, and that infuriated her now.

Didn’t he know he meant so much?

“Steve,” she said, when she couldn’t bear it anymore, in the backseat of the car.

He was staring out the window.

“You just insulted so many people, Darcy,” he said, his eyes swinging to meet hers, pinning her in her seat.

“What do you -?”

She stopped, remembering what she’d said to the stranger. She felt her face flush and she passed a hand over it.

“Look, it’s –”

“Marriage is a trap?” he said, and she felt so strange, the world tilting.

“I don’t know what I’m saying, I – I meant with all those people, it’s all fake. They’re all assholes with too much money. I don’t know… I don’t know how you can stand them.”

Steve frowned a little. “They’re good people, Darcy.”

“All of them?” she retorted.

“ _Some_ of them,” Steve said. “Otherwise I’d never work with someone like Tony or Fury. Not every lawyer and not every rich person has some capitalist agenda you detest.”

Darcy sucked in a breath, mulling it over. She bit her lip, deciding not to hold back.

“You – you think marriage is this thing that everyone else pretends it is?” Darcy asked. “That love like that lasts forever, and you don’t get sick of each other? Half of all marriages end in divorce.”

“Yes, I know. Our firm’s been the one dividing up a lot of families for _years_ ,” he said, and Darcy had never seen him this way, nose scrunching like that as he showed real frustration. “And the other half stay fucking married.”

Darcy fell silent, staring at him. She wondered what he saw.

“Jesus Christ, you’re breaking my fucking heart,” Steve whispered, laughing bitterly. He closed his eyes, shaking his head, making Darcy feel sick.

“Stop the car,” she said, and he blinked at her, surprised.

“What?”

“I said, stop the car – stop the fucking car,” Darcy hissed, and she was moving from her seat, lifting her hand to pound her fist on the partition. “Stop the car!”

“Darcy –”

“Stop the car. I want to get out.”

The car did pull over, and Darcy grabbed her bag, not waiting for it to be stationary before she jumped out, cold air hitting her in the face. She managed to grab her coat, Steve getting out from his side.

“Darcy. Darcy -!”

She took off, not knowing where she was. It was dark and cold, and she knew she looked crazy, wearing her stupid dress with a man chasing after her. She was probably at the edge of Central Park. She had no idea what she was doing, she just hated being in that car with him, hearing him sound like everyone else she knew, so exasperated by her.

“Darcy, please stop.”

“This is what I do, Steve,” she called back, feeling both the urge to laugh and to cry. “I fuck things up really well really fast –”

“I didn’t say that. I’m expressing some confusion and a little –”

Darcy halted abruptly, spinning around, Steve almost colliding with her.

“Would you stop?” she snapped, and he frowned. “Stop being so – fucking… _decent_ all the time. I wish you’d yell for real. I wish you’d lose your temper, or something – I feel like no matter what I do, you’re just gonna let me do it.”

Steve stared back at her. “Not necessarily.”

Darcy’s brows rose. “Why aren’t you married?”

She’d wanted to ask that for a while but never had. She felt as though if she did she’d be going past a point they’d never return from, but they’d never argued like this before tonight.

“No, really. Why aren’t you?” she said, when he said nothing, giving a sigh.

His breath was in the air, and he glanced away, jaw ticking.

“You have these little relationships instead of anything close to what I was bad-mouthing before, so what do you think, counselor? Why haven’t you married someone by now?”

Steve didn’t seem to appreciate her goading him into a response. He stared her down.

“No-one stuck around, Darce.”

The answer was so simple, it was such a stupid question. He was so busy, anyone he did see regularly was subjected to his workaholic tendencies, and they didn’t stick around for him to change. Darcy was the one to lose her nerve and look away, balling her hand into a fist.

“I’m sorry, that was mean of me to ask,” she mumbled.

He didn’t respond. She looked down at the bangle, before she decided to rip it off, offering it to him, Steve frozen in place.

“I don’t want this,” she said. “It’s not my taste, and I… I know you didn’t give it any thought.”

She glanced up, thinking he’d be angry, but he seemed sad.

“Steve.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, and he took it, pocketing it. “I should’ve asked what you wanted.”

“I don’t _want_ anything from you,” she replied. “I just…”

She turned away for a second, giving an elaborate shrug.

“I just want you to be happy. I want to feel less alone, too.”

That hurt to say. She suspected a shrink would be underlining this dialogue if she ever afforded that type of treatment in the future. Steve would be a major plot point.

Steve looked back at her, a little smile beginning to form.

“This was the worst night,” he said, and Darcy snorted, ducking her head.

“Yeah.”

He moved closer to her, taking her face in his hands, Darcy wrapping her hands around his wrists like she was prone to do. She wished he’d tell her what he was thinking as he searched her face, everything softening on his own.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	9. ix. That's The Funny Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm allowing myself this. Not to go into too much detail, but I've had a hard life. I'm sick of feeling like I can't have nice things, that I can't spoil myself, indulge myself, let myself have what I want faster than I first expected. It's been a shitty year on top of everything, with no end to these bad feelings I have. I'm letting myself have this, and you can have it, too. ❤

_Done being jolly, time to be naughty_  
_Think it's time we settle up the score_  
**\- "sympathy 4 the grinch" by 100 gecs**

_I swear to God, I never fall in love_  
_Then you showed up and I can't get enough of it_  
**\- "my ex's best friend" by Machine Gun Kelly**

_It don't run in our blood_  
_That kind of luxe just ain't for us_  
_We crave a different kind of buzz_  
_Let me be your ruler_  
_You can call me queen bee_  
_And baby, I'll rule, I'll rule, I'll rule_  
_Let me live that fantasy_  
**\- "Royals" by Lorde**

**ix. That's The Funny Thing**

Jane was grinding the heel of her palm into one eye, blubbering like Darcy was as they stood on the curb, the taxi driver waiting for them to wrap things up so he could take Jane to the airport. The trunk was wide open, Jane’s suitcase still sitting by their feet as Darcy sniffled:

“Call me when you land, okay?”

“Okay. Be safe, okay?” Jane mumbled, and Darcy nodded.

They were always like this, like it was the last day of summer camp and they were being separated for an ungodly amount of time. Jane would be back in the New Year, it wasn’t like she wasn’t easily reachable, either – she’d be texting Darcy the entire time, most likely.

“I love you,” Darcy wailed, going in for another hug, Jane catching her.

The taxi driver beeped his horn, the girls breaking apart.

“Can we get a move on, ladies, please? I have to make money.”

“I am good for it!” Jane called, swiping more tears away. She wiped her nose with her sleeve. “Okay, I’m going…”

Darcy helped her drag her luggage over. She’d helped her close her bulging suitcase earlier that morning by sitting on it. As awful as it was to say goodbye, she was glad she had come home last night to see Jane off. She’d hate to only get a text or a phone call goodbye.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Jane said, rubbing Darcy’s arms when they managed to get the suitcase into the trunk, slamming it shut. “Just don’t drink too much. And if you go to any clubs, take only half a bar –”

“I’m not doing a ‘xanny’ or whatever at a club, Janey,” Darcy mumbled, doing air quotes. “The hardest drugs I’ll do is Benadryl to sleep.”

She sniffled, Jane giving her a little teary smile.

“You need to tell Steve how you feel, too,” she said, and Darcy slumped a little.

“Really? You’re gonna spring that on me now, when you’re leaving? Really?”

Jane hugged her again, tighter than before, and Darcy returned it with a little sigh.

“You are messed up over him and he deserves to know about it.”

Darcy knew this was true, some part of her was aware that if Jane was in the situation she was in, she’d be butting in and telling her exactly what to do. Something told her she was the exception, like every good piece of advice she’d ever received wasn’t warranted. Darcy felt as though she was a special type of Fucked Up. Not necessarily traumatized by anything in particular, just slightly off-kilter at all times. She knew that was why she thought marriage was a trap. It wasn’t a trap for everyone else – clearly, Steve’s friends Bucky and Natasha were a happy couple – but for Darcy it certainly felt that way.

And she didn’t understand love, at least not what she perceived others to experience. Why did she want what she wanted? Why did the conventional stuff, the vulnerability that was required make her want to run away when she knew she was alone otherwise? She hated being alone, even as an introvert.

Darcy shut the backseat door, waving at Jane, distracted enough not to cry as hard as she expected when she walked back up to the apartment and shut the door behind her.

Their neighbors filled the background noise. Traffic beyond the building did the rest. Darcy glanced around, wondering if she’d feel this way ever again, if she told Steve what she’d been feeling.

It made her feel gross and stupid, having capital ‘F’ Feelings for him, things that weren’t explained with lust or curiosity. Last night when he clutched her face, telling her not to be sorry for the shitty things she said, she knew she was doomed either way.

Would she tell him today? Maybe after their luncheon in Manhattan. Darcy consulted the clock on her phone, seeing she had a couple hours to prepare. She knew she needed every minute available.

She cracked open a White Claw, going into the bathroom to begin. It didn’t matter that it was only 10:30 AM.

-

“Do what makes you happy,” Pepper said. “What makes you happy?”

She was sitting beside Darcy on a white leather couch at the rooftop bar in Manhattan. Thankfully, the fire pits dotted around were enough to keep them warm, Darcy’s bare arm leaning on the back of the couch, her eyes hidden by her brand new tortoise shell sunglasses.

When they’d arrived, she and Steve were civil. It wasn’t cold, but it wasn’t what Friday had been like by a longshot. The longer Darcy was at this luncheon, the more she was dismissing Jane’s advice to be upfront about what she was feeling for Steve. It felt like entire worlds away, what they were like in his apartment alone. Their blissful little bubble popped every time the real world came calling, and Darcy knew it wasn’t a way to live, hidden away from every responsibility.

Darcy’s outfit was dress reminiscent of the Dior ‘New Look’ style of the 40s and 50s. It wasn’t all about her tits that afternoon, but more her tiny waist, perhaps the only part of Darcy’s body she’d never hated. Darcy sat with her ankles crossed on the couch beside Pepper Potts, who wore all black and an infectious smile.

They’d got onto the subject of Darcy’s unemployment. Pepper had the ability to make Darcy candid. She put people at ease.

“What makes you happy, Darcy?” Pepper murmured, her voice lower.

“I don’t know,” Darcy said, giving her shoulders a little shrug. She lifted her drink to sip.

She didn’t know what it was made of, except that it was pink and bubbly with little pieces of strawberry and flecks of gold floating around inside.

Darcy licked her lips, hoping she didn’t seem too subdued. She wasn’t hungover, just feeling shier than last night, thinking too much about Steve, analyzing every little thing he was doing from afar. When she wasn’t doing that, she was secretly glancing over at Brock Rumlow.

It hadn’t occurred to Darcy until it was too late that he’d be at the event. There were only forty or so people, all senior staff at the firm, but it was enough for Steve to be speaking almost non-stop to everyone that came by. Darcy chose to linger on the couch instead of following after him like a well-trained labradoodle. She saw other women by their partners, hanging on every word, and Darcy thought back to last night when Brock called her a rental.

Mercifully, Steve hadn’t given Darcy any gifts today. She thought if he had, she would have thrown them back at him. She didn’t care about any of it if he hadn’t put any actual thought into it.

Pepper was one of the few women not to be standing next to their significant other. She was engaged to Tony Stark, who was standing with several other men in a circle, Steve included, laughing with his head thrown back, sipping scotch.

Pepper didn’t seem bored, only patient and waiting. Perhaps long-suffering at times by how she shook her head fondly when Tony yelled something obnoxious, but she wasn’t like Darcy, sulking and drinking.

Pat, the tall woman, slipped in behind their couch, leaning down.

“Ladies, would you like another drink?” she murmured.

“I’m fine, thanks,” Darcy said. She knew she needed to be slow going. Sloppy drunk was never cute.

She could use a hit of something to mellow out. She saw a few staff pulling on their Juuls and wondered if they were holding out. She sipped her drink as Pat turned to Pepper, who shook her head.

“I’m not drinking at the moment, but thank you, Patricia.”

Pat winked and moved away, smoothing the arms of her blazer jacket.

“I wish she’d find someone,” Pepper murmured, and Darcy was surprised, blinking at her behind her sunglasses. “She’s so beautiful. A total catch. I’ve tried to set her up –”

“Oh, don’t do that,” Darcy said, and Pepper chuckled. “That never works out. Because then she’ll feel obligated to break it off as gently as possible if they don’t mesh well.”

“I know. And I know people don’t need to have someone to be complete, I just want her to have someone. She’s really so lovely, I don’t understand why she hasn’t been snatched up.”

“Maybe she doesn’t _do_ monogamy,” Darcy muttered, unable to help herself.

Darcy’s phone buzzed and she put it under her nose to read it.

**_How are you baby?_ **

She glanced over at Steve, seeing his back was to her, tucking his phone back into his suit pants pocket. He wore a tie today, but Tony Stark beside him wore some type of silk cravat with his ostentatious sunglasses. It reminded Darcy of a peacock.

“I know these days people don’t want labels on relationships, but maybe she could use with a little stability outside of work. I don’t mean to sound so… uncool…”

“You don’t,” Darcy said to Pepper. “I just don’t know her well enough to know whether it’s her or it’s the people she’s dating –”

“I think it’s her,” Pepper said, rolling her lip between her teeth. “People in this industry struggle to find someone. Or keep them.”

Darcy felt her stomach churn and nodded, trying her best to keep her face neutral. The sunglasses helped shield her features a little.

**_How long do we have to stay?_ **

She sent that back instead of answering Steve’s question. She wasn’t about to lie and tell him she was enjoying herself. Not that Pepper was bad company. She just wanted to be alone with him again, alone and not worrying about whether he was acting the entire time.

She hadn’t realized he might have been like this with every other girl. Called them ‘baby’ from the start, done scenes together where they called him ‘Daddy’ and they got off together, and then they’d wash up and break away from one another for Steve to go back to work and be the successful lawyer with the stellar reputation and work ethic.

“I think I might go speak to Pat now,” Pepper murmured, leaning to touch Darcy’s knee for a second. “Is that alright? Oh, I think Brock’s coming over, hello…”

Brock had appeared and Darcy went still, not smiling at him as Pepper departed. Brock slipped into the space Pepper had occupied earlier, Darcy’s heartbeat picking up as he slung an arm over the back of the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

He looked very handsome in his dark suit and maroon shirt, a good couple inches of his chest on display with his open collar, his lips pulled into a grin.

“Back again, huh?” he murmured.

Darcy kept still, but this time she smiled, false and lingering. He’d already made his point last night, this was just overkill. He was attracted to Darcy and upset about it. The thought dawned on her when his eyes dipped down to gawk at her properly, up-close.

He wasn’t entirely repulsive, just a little pathetic because he was so transparent. If Steve acted like this, their relationship would be entirely different. Darcy took a half second to look over at the other side of the rooftop, seeing Steve had moved, and he was glancing every so often their way.

“Never left,” Darcy countered, and he leaned ever closer, hand coming up to brush the hair from her face.

Steve had mentioned Brock was the better fit to be head of a team for a case they were both working on. Maybe Brock felt he’d been wronged in some way, but it was obvious he had some type of vendetta against Steve. Whatever version of himself Steve showed at work, at least around Brock, was probably the opposite of how Brock was acting now. He was entitled and rude, not offering Darcy a chance to have her own say in anything. If she ripped away from Brock now, she didn’t want to explain to anyone why. She’d rather take his crap until he got bored and moved on, realizing she wasn’t easily affected by him.

Darcy liked to think she was stronger than he expected –

“I remember seeing you on fifth, a couple times,” he murmured. “You were good at making copies.”

No-one had mentioned her working for the firm this entire luncheon. Steve had conveniently left that out at Darcy’s request. If anyone else remembered her, she was glad they hadn’t brought it up. All Darcy had said was she was ‘in between jobs’. It made it seem less dire that way.

“I remember you on your knees a couple times, getting something under a desk.”

What was she? A slut or a gold-digger? Or both? Darcy waited, feeling her smile slipping away, lifting her glass back to her lips for a sip.

“What’s your point, Brock?” she asked.

“Were you waiting for this, for some Manhattan sucker to pick you up at work? What if it was me?”

“It wouldn’t have been you, Brock,” Darcy murmured. “Not in a million years.”

He laughed at that, enjoying it too much. Maybe he was into women being mean back to him. Like this, he didn’t exactly inspire Darcy to simper, but she knew he’d have to switch and change for different people. All men like him did. Pepper hadn’t seemed put off by him at all.

“Really?” he said, tilting his head a little.

His hand was on her thigh now, for a few seconds.

Darcy grinned, pushing her glasses up her head.

“Not if you were the last man on earth,” she said. “You’re too old for me, anyway –”

“Oh, you’re not that decent of a liar, sweetheart,” he said, and Darcy fell silent. “I know plenty of girls like you, coming to these parties, getting off on what their daddy never gave them.”

Darcy moved her leg away from him then, twisting her body to the side, and he was laughing, Darcy’s sunglasses pushed back down as she blushed with shame.

He swung his knee a little, cocking his head at Steve, whose back was to them again.

“Have fun with him, while it lasts. In the New Year, we’re taking on a dozen new clients. It’s partly why we all came today, for the formal announcement.”

“How do you know that?” Darcy asked. Steve hadn’t mentioned any of this.

“I’m gunning for senior partner. Not in name, of course. I wouldn’t want ‘Rogers’ anywhere near ‘Rumlow’…”

“Me, neither,” Darcy said, and he chuckled.

“That’s the spirit,” he murmured, and he was standing up, taking her hand without asking and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Just remember to fuck his brains out when he gets sad about work again, sweetheart.”

He had no shame. Darcy was repulsed, watching him leave, lighting up as he approached a group of men. Darcy glanced at her phone, seeing Steve had messaged her while Brock was next to her.

**_We’ll leave in half an hour after the speeches_ **

Darcy typed back as fast as possible:

**_Did you know about the clients you’re taking on next year?_ **

She watched his back from afar, draining the rest of her glass. She knew why she was upset, and she also knew she had no right to be. They weren’t dating. It didn’t stop her self-righteousness growing as he replied quickly:

**_Yes_ **

He wasn’t going to tell her. He probably didn’t think he had to. When Tony tapped on a glass with a little spoon, getting everyone’s attention, Darcy didn’t need to listen to know what it was all about. She watched Steve the entire time, clapping when everyone else did.

Bigger opportunities. Reputable clientele. Longer nights made worth it by brilliant results. It made Darcy wonder how much the mental gymnastics cost everyone there in the long run, and whether the anxiety turned corrosive. Who here had ulcers from the stress? And who by this time next year would be burnt out?

They left in half an hour, as Steve promised. It was all well and good for Jane to dish out advice when she didn’t know the full story. The longer Darcy dwelled on telling Steve what she was feeling, the more nauseous she felt. They sat in his backseat, Steve telling his driver to go to Queens first like they did last night.

“You weren’t going to tell me,” Darcy murmured, taking off her sunglasses and folding them, tucking them back in their case.

She felt like she was playing the duped wife. She was the sugar baby and now she was a nag. None of this made any sense. Darcy blamed her instincts to ruin everything the second it got too complicated. She was both too young and too old for all this, and it was driving her up the wall.

“I was,” he said. “I didn’t think it would affect anything, is all.”

Darcy made a face, looking away. “Okay.”

“I need you for the holidays, it’s up to you whether you want anything beyond that point. I won’t have a lot of free time next year. That’s how it’s always been.”

Take it or leave it, Darcy thought. That was implied. She hated his tone, hated the lack of warmth.

“Did I – Did I do something wrong?” she asked, instead of tip-toeing. “I feel like we were okay last night, and now –”

“Brock’s married,” Steve said, and Darcy blinked at him. “Just so you know. I’m pretty certain he plays around on the side, but his wife won’t appreciate finding out about you eventually, no matter what he says. I know he’s persuasive.”

Darcy glared. “Are you fucking serious right now? _Are you_ serious?”

Steve’s jaw ticked. “I thought you should know.”

Darcy fell silent, appalled. He was jealous? Had it seemed like they were flirting from far away? Did he not trust her enough to pretend to be his girlfriend without trying to start something with another guy? It was so stupid Darcy began to laugh to herself, covering her eyes with her hand.

She stayed quiet the entire trip, until they were pulling up to her apartment building and she stepped out without looking back.

“Are we meeting up next week?” he asked, and she stopped, spinning around on the spot.

“ _Are_ we?” she threw back. “Do you even want me anymore?”

He deflated a little. “I’m giving you the option –”

“Get inside,” she snapped, not wanting to keep this going where her neighbors could watch them.

She turned her heel, racing up the steps as fast as she could without tripping, hearing Steve follow her. She unlocked her front door, letting herself in. He hadn’t been inside her apartment before. He got to see the shittiness of her life without him.

She left it wide open for him to slip inside, the door shutting. Darcy tugged off her coat, throwing it on the couch. Steve glanced around, seeing her crappy furniture, the mold on the ceiling, the cracked paint and bubbles of the wallpaper. She hadn’t tidied up, either, so there was trash on most surfaces. There was a bundle of dirty clothes on the floor leading to the hallway.

“You’re jealous of Brock Rumlow?” she said, and he glanced at her.

“Yeah, a little,” he said. “But it’s not my business.”

“So you’d just let me sleep with him, if that’s what I wanted?”

“Do you want to?” he said.

“Fuck, _no_ ,” Darcy snapped. “I can’t believe how heartless you think I am. It’s so fucking stupid.”

“You were sitting really close –” Steve began, stepping toward her.

“You really think I just can’t keep it in my pants, is that it?” she retorted. “I’m a little slut you can’t control, and I was bored enough to flirt with him? He talked to me last night already –”

Steve’s voice changed. “What.”

“He called me cheap,” Darcy said, smiling without mirth, shrugging. “And he’s not wrong, that’s the funny thing. Literally everything he said was true, and he’s got it out for you. He wants to drive us apart, but he doesn’t know it’s not real, so – well, he thinks I’m after your money. He called me a whore, basically.”

Steve stared at her. “I’m sorry –”

“I mean, I _am_ after your money,” Darcy cut in. She shrugged. “But it was never a problem for you. Except now you’re jealous, when I never said I wanted anyone else.”

Steve closed his eyes for a second, sighing.

Darcy swallowed, eyes ducking. “I didn’t _want_ your money. I just wanted you.”

It felt like this might be the last time she saw him. She was saying things they couldn’t come back from.

“So I guess that’s it,” Darcy mumbled.

Minus all the fun they had, it was a pretty miserable arrangement now that she took a step back. She’d been pretending so many things, it was difficult to know what to believe anymore. Did she play along with it all so she wasn’t left alone? It didn’t work. She was probably the last person who could be a successful sugar baby. If she did this again, it would have to be with some old coot she felt nothing for.

“Jane’s gone?” Steve said, after a beat.

She had only mentioned Jane leaving the once, so him remembering surprised her a little. She felt her guts churn.

“Yeah –”

He grabbed her by the waist, bringing her close, kissing her. Darcy managed to pull back, glaring at him. She didn't have the strength to fight him off. She wanted him but she didn’t _want_ to want him. She thought about being completely out of line, slapping him, shattering whatever illusions he had.

“You’re just trying to mark your territory,” she hissed, trying her best to be fierce.

Steve had a dark look in his eye, possessive, hands now on her face.

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Fucking Neanderthal,” Darcy snapped, and she kissed him, melting into it.

Her fingers yanked on his hair, Steve’s tongue pushing into her mouth, capturing her and keeping her trapped in his arms, shuffling them back, toward the hallway.

“Bedroom?” he whispered, and Darcy nodded, pointing toward hers, his lips trailing down to her throat, biting her.

He gathered her up, moving her down the hallway and into her room, stepping over the mess.

He tore her tights to get to her, fingers shoving into her cunt, Darcy’s whimper smothered by his possessive lips. He fucked her hard and fast, pushing her further down into the mattress, Darcy’s thighs beginning to tremble.

“Daddy, please,” she whimpered.

It slipped out. It was so embarrassing. It had to be shameful, right? It was a word people weren’t supposed to hear, it was just for him. It felt so good to say, though. It felt right, and it was so fucked up it worked. It was fucked up enough for her.

Everything about his touch screamed _mine, mine, mine_ , and Darcy loved it, coming with a broken moan. They stripped off their clothes and Steve was turning her over, onto her stomach, Darcy’s mind still reeling from everything.

He was so _mad_ , so brutal when he slid home, giving her no reprieve as his hips snapped, Darcy crying out. She was going to make a mess and he knew it, rendering her helpless and writhing, taking it all, their bodies slapping together, Darcy’s hands gripping her dirty sheets.

His hand slipped down between them, pinching and rolling her clit, Darcy’s high exhale joining his appreciative grunts. She was tightening up, her mind going blank.

She said his name instead, breathless begging mixing with her groans.

“Please, Steve. Please, I need it so bad, please – _PLEASE_ –!”

She’d never made these sounds for anyone else, and no-one else had ever been like this with her, dictating her pleasure, owning it like Steve did. He deserved to know.

“I’m yours, I’m all yours, please –”

He was so deep, it was starting to hurt from how rough he was, nails digging into her ass as he rutted, and Darcy felt herself shudder over the edge – mess trickled down her thighs, her groans reaching the hysteria only Steve ever made her reach –

“There it is,” Steve groaned, sounded relieved. “Keep going, baby. Keep going…”

Darcy rubbed her burning face in her sheets. _“I need you to come_ –”

He lasted another half a minute, thrusts turning erratic, and he shoved into her the deepest her body allowed, one hand slipping down to grab her neck, turning Darcy’s face to give her a sloppy kiss. They were so close, but so far away from one another.

“Steve, Steve…”

She’d begun to cry. Steve pulled out of her, her body shivering, and she slumped forward, sobbing into the sheets. He tugged her up, cuddling her to his chest.

She was sweaty and panting, unsure of what to do to make herself stop. He’d opened the floodgates, fucked this overwhelming feeling out of her.

“Darcy, it’s okay…”

“No, it’s not,” she wailed. “I… I _love you_.”

He went quiet, kissing her forehead, smoothing her hair. When Darcy managed to look him in the eye again, she saw his little smile, his eyes shining back at hers. She was going to die.

And then –

“You beat me to it,” he whispered. “Goddamn it. I love you. So fucking much.”

“What happened since Friday?” Darcy mumbled, and Steve sucked in a breath.

“I got scared. Thought I saw you pull away.”

“I tried to, I’m sorry,” Darcy whimpered. “I thought I wasn’t enough –”

“You _are_ enough, baby,” he whispered, kissing her forehead again. “You are enough…”

Darcy began to laugh, because what he was saying was so unbelievably stupid.

She was crying and laughing, Steve moving down to kiss each tear away, gathering her in his lap.  
  
She sniffled, pulling back to peer up at him.

“I know you just came, but – but can I go down on you? Please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I originally had Steve disagree and tell Darcy that HE was not enough. I'm not doing that shit today
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	10. x. Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you more than you know, I'm not the same without you... anyway, let's be mush

_We belong to you and me_   
_I believe in you_   
**\- "How Deep Is Your Love" by Bee Gees**

**x. Fuck**

Darcy packed a bag. She stuffed it with clothes and make up. He said he’d buy her whatever else she needed. She took books and her laptop. She took the stolen ficus and the bunch of poinsettias he gave her. She piled it all in the back of the car and Steve wrapped his arms around her, Darcy’s face buried in his neck as they went back to Manhattan.

He loved her. Steve loved her and she didn’t have to pretend she wasn’t in love with him, either. How someone as beautiful and alive as him could love her back, she didn’t know, but she wasn’t questioning it. Not today, not that night when they were lying in bed together, talking and talking, hands wandering, lips chasing caresses.

Darcy woke the next morning alone, naked but warm, stretching out, hearing Steve on the phone. She knew it was Monday. She had no plans, he had work. He couldn’t work from home every day, and she was surprised she was okay about that. She knew she’d have a whole day to herself, but she could fill the gaps, like she was planning to once Jane was gone.

She spoke to her last night, told her she was going to be okay. She wanted to tell her everything, but she decided to wait. She didn’t have to know about the whole sugar baby thing. Darcy wanted to live in the secret world a little longer.

Steve came into the bedroom, tying his tie, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning over to kiss her.

“Morning, I didn’t wanna wake you,” he whispered.

He tasted of coffee and toast. Darcy’s stomach grumbled and he smiled at her, brushing a piece of hair from her face.

“Wish I didn’t have to go,” he added, and Darcy shook her head.

“It’ll be good for us,” she said. Time apart to make you appreciate the person, or whatever the saying was.

“I doubt that,” Steve murmured.

He was the most honest he’d ever been, not shielding her from his fondness, his earnestness. Last night he admitted that he didn't like that she lived all the way in Queens, but he didn’t want to tell her what to do. He was ecstatic she’d decided to stay with him during the holidays, something he had barely contained until they got back yesterday. They’d already changed the sheets last night and Darcy knew she needed to do it again that morning, once she left the bed.

She gave a little stretch, rolling onto her back, Steve watching her. Her bare chest distracted him, his eyes warm as he drank her in, hand gliding down her neck to her right breast, cupping it, before he slipped it back up again to her face.

Darcy gave a little shiver, opening her mouth to catch his thumb and Steve swallowed.

“Fuck work,” he whispered, and Darcy shook her head.

“Don’t want you missing it because of me again. I have shit to do today, anyway.”

“More important than me?” Steve said, teasing, and he stared at her tongue that brushed the pad of his thumb. “Fuck…”

“I’ll see you tonight,” she whispered, flopping back down on the bed.

He didn’t fuck her how she expected. He buried his face in her instead, nose pushed up against her pubic bone, Darcy’s hands in his hair, messing it up. He emerged after she came, pressing kisses to her inner thighs, his mouth wet, eyes bright.

“You’re late,” Darcy whispered, panting a little, and he moved up to kiss her, messy and demanding.

He was going to ruin her later. Darcy watched him leave, hair fixed, licking his lips. He gave her a little wave from the doorway and Darcy smiled, rolling onto her stomach and hugging her pillow. Steve’s jaw ticked and he shook his head at her, retreating.

“I love you, I’m going before you kill me,” he said.

“Love you, too,” Darcy murmured.

Darcy watched movies all day, ate cereal straight from the box and made a list of things to buy tomorrow. Steve returned at seven, right on time for dinner, scooping her up in the kitchen and kissing her like he hadn’t seen her in weeks.

-

Tuesday morning, Darcy rose early with Steve, wore her Hello Kitty pajamas at the dining room table as Steve wore his work clothes. Darcy ate a runny boiled egg with toast as he read the paper. It worked so well, Darcy catching Steve looking at her again and again.

“What’s on for today?” he asked.

“I was gonna go shopping,” Darcy said, wiping a crumb away. She leaned on her elbow, Steve’s mouth pulling into a half-smile. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

Steve’s eyes ducked for a second, which was especially adorable for a man his age. He smoothed his tie, clearing his throat.

“I can give you my card.”

Darcy grinned. “Spoiling me.”

“Hardly,” Steve said, but he was. He absolutely was, and he was loving it. “What are you getting?”

“Christmas things.”

They’d discussed how he didn’t have any decorations, Darcy lamenting this sorry fact, especially because he had a functioning fireplace that fitted the cosy winter aesthetic perfectly.

“Nothing for you?” Steve said, and Darcy couldn’t keep the grin of her face.

Steve loved the provider role. She liked it, too, in her own way. She wanted to do something for him, because she loved him. God, it was so simple.

Steve took out his wallet, putting his black credit card between his middle and forefinger, holding it aloft. Darcy took it, pressing a kiss to his lips, Steve’s hands cupping her face, turning it deeper.

“You’re not sick of me yet?” he murmured, when they broke apart.

“That’s impossible,” Darcy whispered, and he gave a little smile, his eyes different, reverent.

Darcy bought a tree, baubles and tinsel, plus several novelty ornaments. They put the tree together when Steve came home. He fell asleep on the couch, Darcy taking the beer in his hand away, carefully undoing his tie as he snored softly, cheeks pink.

-

Darcy went to La Perla the following day. She returned to the apartment with arms full of bags. By the afternoon, she was in the kitchen, every surface covered with flour.

She didn’t hear Steve come in because of the Christmas music she was playing through her phone. She jumped, hearing his voice:

“What are you up to, baby?”

She spun around, hand on her chest. “You gave me a heart attack. I’m baking.”

He was staring at her like she was doing cartwheels, when all she’d done was mix a basic cookie dough together in several batches. She’d already iced several cookies so they looked like Santa hats. She was moving onto the sprigs of holly. Then she’d be finishing them off with Christmas trees, the most ambitious of the three.

Steve moved toward the tray that was sitting on the stove, the Santa hats. Darcy glanced over her shoulder, readjusting the piping bag in her hands.

“You can have one.”

Instead of doing that, he turned back, taking the few strides to reach her, taking hold of Darcy’s face to kiss her hard, surprising her.

“Mmph…”

Darcy melted into it, putting aside the piping bag, Steve backing her into the counter, tongue stroking hers, Darcy’s guts turning molten with desire, her moan slipping out when Steve trailed down to her neck, his hands on her waist.

“Cookies really turn you on, huh?” Darcy whispered, and he chuckled.

He paused his movements, pulling back to look her in the eye.

“What’ve you got on under this?”

Darcy was wearing a loose-fitted shirt and sweatpants, her feet bare. Her lips curled in a smirk, and he tugged the neck of her shirt to get a proper look inside, his brows lifting.

“Jesus…”

His hands tugged off her shirt, tossing it aside, Darcy’s brand new bra on display. It was all tulle and lace, not very functional, but that wasn’t the point. It was the presentation, the glossy satin that pushed everything together and up, framing her chests in such a way that screamed both romance and pride. Steve ducked down, Darcy’s hand meeting his hair as he rubbed his nose on her bare skin, pressing kisses to her and the material, before he laved his tongue over the peak of her nipple hidden beneath it all. He left a wet mark on the lavender cup, moving to the other one, eyes dark and staring up at Darcy.

“Daddy,” Darcy whispered. The first time she’d said it that day. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Better than okay. Better than okay…”

Much later, his fingers were tracing patterns in her bare back as Darcy lay on top of him, Steve’s knee drawn up. Darcy’s eyes trailed down his knee, enjoying his thick thighs, then down to his cock that lay wet and softening against her hip. She slipped a hand down his Adonis belt, seeing him twitch with interest though his eyes were closed, Steve half asleep.

-

Steve was distracted at dinner the following night, on his phone and apologetic with the looks he gave Darcy. She was eating beside him, the fire crackling in the background.

She’d stolen one of his cable knit sweaters that day, after she’d come home from shopping again. She’d wrapped everything and put some of it under the tree. She’d greeted Steve at the door when she heard him come in, like an excitable puppy.

“We’re so cute, it makes me puke,” she whispered, and Steve grinned down at her, hands deep in her hair.

Darcy cleared the table, hearing Steve talk on and on, sounding tired and like he was trying to wrap the conversation up repeatedly, everything dragging out. She returned, walking up to him, tapping his leg with her foot. She wore a pair of long woollen socks that came up to her mid-thigh with a short velvet skirt she’d swiped from Jane’s closet some months ago.

Steve glanced down at her leg, distracted, listening to whoever was on the phone.

“I hear you, but Brock – uh-huh,” he muttered. He swallowed, closing his eyes and suppressing a sigh.

Darcy crowded him, climbing into his lap, Steve’s hand on her knee, slipping up her thigh to meet her skin, patting her. Darcy’s hands were on the chair behind him, her eyes watching his face.

He looked tired but fond, Brock’s voice partially muffled but still insistent. Whatever they were discussing, it was more important than Steve’s personal time. He’d been off the clock when he called earlier. Darcy narrowed her eyes slightly, rolling her hips once.

Steve drew in a breath, hand smoothing over her ass. Darcy watched him realize she wasn’t wearing underwear, his sentence fragmenting.

“I understand, we – we have to keep in mind that the firm’s resources might need bolstering.”

Bolstering. Big word, smart guy. Big dick. Darcy did it again, starting to grind in his lap, Steve’s hand slipping up again, skin rasping against skin. Darcy’s tits were brushing his chin. He kissed her, a light peck, when Brock was talking again.

“I should go,” he said finally, when Darcy was rubbing against him a little harder, marking his suit pants. She ducked down to assault his neck, kissing and sucking at his skin.

Brock was still talking.

“Hang up,” Darcy whispered, and she tugged his earlobe between her lips. “Hang up, Daddy.”

She felt Steve’s fingers dig into her skin.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Brock, alright? We need a break. It’s dinner time, for Christ’s sake.”

Darcy had never heard Steve speak that way to him before, and he hung up, Darcy moving back to look him in the eye, Steve’s phone falling to the carpet. Both his hands were on her hips now, under her skirt.

“You giving me all this attention right now?” he whispered. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“Stop thinking about work and fuck me,” Darcy whispered back.

Darcy leaned up, both their hands working on his belt and fly, Darcy’s hand dipping inside his underwear to pull him out, Steve’s lips on the corner of her mouth, and he gave a little gasp as she took him to the hilt, Darcy’s breath held.

“Fuck,” she heard him groan. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come…”

She grinned, preening a little as he sucked at her neck, bucking into her, hitting a spot that made her toes curl. She wanted him like this, a little helpless, overwhelmed by her body. She wanted him to groan her name, mark her with his hands and mouth. She wanted and _wanted_ – he was so beautiful and he was all hers…

“Darcy, shit, I – I – fuck, baby –”

He gave a groan, squeezing his eyes shut as he jumped inside her, sharing a messy open kiss. Darcy licked his tongue, Steve shuddering still, his skin flushed.

Later, when he was sitting on the couch, Darcy lay on the carpet naked and staring back at him.

“What the fuck, Darcy,” he whispered, and she felt something overtake her, a deeper understanding.

She gave a little smile, pushing her glasses back up her nose.

They didn’t say anything for several minutes, not until Steve joined her on the rug, turning her onto her back, gathering her in his arms, their bodies slotting together in a warm, sleepy embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	11. xi. I Feel Like I Could Die

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, there's a (tentative) chapter count! also, please tell me I'm good

_You never doubted it_   
_You're so proud of it_   
_You straight shouted it_   
_There's no doubt of it_   
**\- "Crown on the Ground" by Sleigh Bells**

_If I'm butter, if I'm butter_   
_If I'm butter, then he's a hot knife_   
_He makes my heart a cinema scope_   
_He's showing the dancing bird of paradise_   
**\- "Hot Knife" by Fiona Apple**

_And I know I've kissed you before, but_   
_I didn't do it right_   
_Can I try again, try again, try again_   
_Try again, and again, and again_   
_And again, and again, and again_   
**\- "Pink in the Night" by Mitski**

**xi. I Feel Like I Could Die**

Darcy held her breath, the only sounds in the bathroom being the music coming from her phone as she leaned forward. She heard footsteps behind her, Steve stopping short.

“You’re doing your -?”

“Eyeliner, yeah,” Darcy said, pen poised, glancing at him in the giant mirror.

She wore her bathrobe off her shoulders, the material wrapping around her naked chest and middle. She was craning herself forward, as close as she could get on her feet to the mirror to get the best angle.

“You… need to get closer?” Steve asked, sounding amused, somewhat fascinated.

“I would usually sit _on_ the sink,” Darcy murmured, turning her head to look at him. It depended on the bathroom layout, but most cabinets were sat on if they were large enough.

Darcy could use a handheld mirror, but she didn’t have one, and having two hands to make the perfect wing tended to work best for her.

“Sit on the sink,” Steve said, and Darcy realized she was still hesitating, despite spending her week at his place. She supposed she’d sit on the sink if she knew Steve wasn’t home.

Darcy paused again, and his brows lifted slightly, encouraging.

She hopped up, maneuvering her body so she was pressed up against the mirror, her face all she could see. This was the more crucial part of her makeup. If she messed this up, she could look like Amy Winehouse. It wasn’t a _bad_ look, it just wasn’t what she was aiming for.

She stayed, watching as Darcy began to sculpt out a shape. Bing Crosby crooned as Steve moved closer, until he was standing behind her, his hand reaching for the back of his neck.

“You sore?” she murmured, and he nodded, jaw ticking. He was irritated. “What happened?”

“Turned my head too fast,” he muttered, and Darcy suppressed a smirk, leaning back to inspect her line compared to the other she’d started on her other eye.

“Want a massage?” Darcy murmured, their eyes meeting.

“That’s… not gonna turn out in a way that won’t make us late tonight,” he said, rubbing his neck, his eyes dipping to Darcy’s bare shoulders. “Because I’ll wanna touch you back.”

Darcy felt her tummy flip, smiling at him in the mirror. She made a little sound, leaning forward again.

“What?” Steve said.

“Nothing. I just – it’s intimidating seeing you next to me in the mirror,” she murmured.

“What… the hell are you talking about?” he murmured.

He closed in on her, wrapping his arms around her middle, squeezing her into him. He kissed her neck, eyes glued to hers in the mirror. Her robe began to slip and he pushed it down, revealing her chest, both hands cupping her now, Darcy’s surprised moan slipping out, her hips jerking forward, Steve’s crotch pressing into her ass.

“Not now, later,” he whispered. “Later, in front of this mirror.”

Darcy was getting worked up from a few grips of his hands alone, a low whine building inside her, Steve reading her mind.

“Don’t wanna mess up your hard work.”

He moved back, after he put her robe back on. He winced as he grabbed the back of his neck again.

“Better suit up.”

Darcy got back to work, and was able to keep her eyeliner matching enough for them to be considered sisters, just not twins. She straightened her hair, kept her outfit simple for the most part. Her navy dress cinched in at the waist, flared out at the hips. It had a sweetheart neckline, and Darcy dusted some highlighter on her chest and neck so her pale skin glowed even more, stepping back to admire her work as Steve walked in, wrist aloft.

“Need help?” she murmured.

He nodded, eyes taking her in.

“You’re beautiful…”

“Alright, enough of that,” she said, feeling herself blush.

She helped secure his cuff link and then the other. It was a more business casual night, so Darcy treated it like she was Meghan Markle on _Suits_ , plus a little red lipstick.

The client party was less intimidating than last Saturday, at least from the outside. The location was a smaller venue, but still a large crowd, but everyone seemed less ostentatious. There wasn’t a fur in sight, and Darcy spotted more than one attendee wearing an ugly sweater.

“Not everyone gets invited,” Steve murmured in Darcy’s ear, their fingers entwined.

“So it’s _exclusive_?” Darcy murmured back, and she grinned up at him. “I don’t see Goldberg…”

“Pretty sure he wasn’t considered,” Steve said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Everyone likes you, no wonder you got asked,” Darcy said, and it was Steve’s turn to deflect the flattery, looking away, pretending he was more preoccupied with finding beer than taking a compliment.

Darcy felt herself deflate a little when she spotted Brock among the crowd. So he’d charmed his way into a good relationship with this client. She wondered what version of him she’d see tonight, feeling her guts twist with anxiety. She was _allowed_ to be there, she was a plus-one. She hadn’t underdressed, or overcompensated with something super revealing. She wasn’t playing any type of role for the first time in her dating life. She realized this now as they crossed the tiled floor, her kitten heels kinder to her calf muscles than what she wore last weekend.

She side-stepped a woman wearing a fluffy Santa hat and Steve pulled her closer, into his side. They almost managed to avoid Brock, until his arm came out of nowhere, stopping Steve in his tracks.

“You got a second, Steve?” he asked, and Darcy felt Steve shift instantly, to Lawyer Mode.

No longer soft, goofy Steve. He stood a little straighter, Darcy’s eyes meeting Brock’s. He inspected her, assessing, before his eyes swung back to Steve.

“We’ve never been formally introduced, man,” he said, and Steve blinked at him, jaw ticking the once before he flipped a switch inside.

“Of course,” he said, moving a little so Darcy had full view of Brock. “Brock, this is Darcy Lewis. Darcy, this is Brock. You’ve spoke on the phone?”

Darcy appreciated that Steve didn’t refer to either time she’d spoken to him at other events, as if they weren’t worth noting. Brock’s hand was firm as it took hers to shake it. Darcy pulled back faster than usual, a false smile forming on her face. Steve’s hand was on the small of her back, guiding her toward the bar.

“We were getting a beer,” Steve added, and Brock put out his hand again.

“I’ve got a couple things to run by you.”

“Brock, it’s Saturday,” Steve replied, voice changing to something firmer, less polite bullshit to it. “I’m here to thank our client for the work they’ve given us this year.”

“I was working on something with a couple of the guys earlier today, something bigger. A better angle than what we originally had.”

It was a business contract of some type that they were negotiating. At least, that was what Darcy understood their case to be, ironing out things and making sure it was a lucrative deal for everyone involved. It meant a big cut for the firm, and more clients in the New Year if they managed to pull everything off. Darcy knew Steve had put it aside today, since he’d worked late Friday night.

He went out that morning and Darcy thought he’d gone to the office, when he only went to get her some croissants and ridiculously festive Starbucks order. They’d stayed in most of the day, wandering out into the snow in the afternoon.

Steve began to falter, but he wasn’t complying fully, he was resisting, his fingers making circles in Darcy’s lower back. Before he could decide what to do or say, Darcy said:

“Why don’t you get us a couple drinks?”

Steve looked at her, as if remembering she was there, eyes softening.

“Okay. I’ll come back,” he said. He looked at Brock. “Then we’ll talk.”

Left alone with Brock, Darcy rose an unimpressed brow at him.

“Why bother pretending you’re a team player when you could easily usurp Steve with this amazing new angle you came up with?” she drawled, putting a hand on her hip.

Brock stared at her tits for a good ten seconds before looking up at her face again.

“He’s not a family man, and you can't pretend you’re some type of supportive girlfriend, sweetheart,” he said back.

Darcy had obviously struck some nerve. He was so insecure. She scoffed, not bothering to hide it.

“Where’s _your_ wife? She back at your stupid apartment, fucking your driver or something?”

He took a step closer, leaning down to murmur by her ear. Darcy could smell his cologne, something inviting and sexy that was wasted on an asshole like him. She felt his hand on her side, fingers way too close to her chest. She thought about kneeing him in the groin, dignity out the window. That would kill a couple birds with one stone. She’d feel better and then people would see Brock being a creep at the event. Then she knew Steve would have to deal with some headaches and she’d rather not give Brock the satisfaction that he got to her –

“If I were him, I’d tie you to a bed and leave you there all day and night, face down, ass up…”

“That sounds wonderful,” Darcy said, egging him on.

“And then the second the New Year came by, and I didn’t need you to parade through these parties, I’d get a new one. Younger and _tighter_.”

Darcy chuckled, low. “I am _very_ young. And very tight.”

She’d never spoken like this to anyone in all her life. A part of her was pleased she was up to it, not backing down or dying from mortification. She suspected it was because she didn’t have to lie to him about anything, so she didn’t care if he saw her this way.

She knew she bothered Brock because she didn’t fit into the equation, of what he thought Steve to be. He couldn’t stand that not only was Steve younger and more successful than him, but he also had someone with him that made him happy. Even if it was pretend at first, Darcy had always liked him, always wanted to support him. It was easy to fall into place beside Steve, not because she was impressed by any of the money or glamour, but because he was so easy to love.

Brock drew back, smiling at her like he was the cat that swallowed the canary, and Darcy smiled back at him. When Steve reached their side, beers in hand, Darcy fell into a comfortable silence.

Steve only lasted another fifteen minutes before he bailed from Brock’s conversation, telling him to take a break, which Darcy suspected was a well-aimed jab at his family life.

“What did he say to you?” he asked, when they were in the elevator back up to the penthouse. “Was he crass?”

“Absolutely,” Darcy said, with a little snort, and Steve’s face fell. “No, it’s fine. I told you to get us drinks, I knew what he’d be like –”

“Fucking animal, I wish I could –”

Steve’s hands had balled into fists and Darcy reached for him, touching his wrists.

“It’s not personal.”

“It kinda feels personal,” he muttered dryly, and Darcy felt herself smirk in spite of everything. “What? What’s so funny? He’s insulting you.”

“He’s so… I mean, I was pretty… _lewd_ ,” Darcy said.

Steve tilted his head slightly, relaxing enough to not look like he meant to punch the elevator car wall. It stopped, him and Darcy stepping out.

“What did _you_ say?” he said, key in his front door.

Darcy looked him in the eye, moving past him as he let her by.

“That I’m young and tight.”

For a second, Steve froze, as if he’d swallowed his own tongue. Darcy felt a thrill of satisfaction at the sight of rendering him speechless, slipping past him, only to have Steve’s arm wrap around her middle, yanking her backwards.

He pushed her into the wall, Darcy’s giggle cut off as he kissed her, hand slipping down her thigh, hitching her leg over his hip, his crotch meeting hers as he gripped her ass, his other hand in her hair, tugging enough to make her scalp tingle.

He kissed her like if he it was all he could ever do – he was desperate and demanding, plying her lips apart with his hot tongue, sucking her down and pushing her against the wall, everything rushed and heavy. Darcy moved to touch him back but he was faster, pinning her wrist to the wall, sucking the air out of her.

“You said that to him?” Steve panted.

Darcy nodded, giggling.

“You think that’s funny?” he purred, and he was smiling at her, too.

“All he can do is tell everyone I said it,” Darcy whispered. “And it’s not like it’s not true –”

Steve kissed her mouth again, cutting her off. She moaned, taking it all as he pulled her away from the wall, backing her down the hallway. He pushed open the bathroom door, spinning Darcy around so she was facing her reflection, just like he promised.

“Wanna see your face,” he whispered, and his hands were disappearing under her dress, tugging her underwear down hastily, the sound of his belt buckle next.

He pulled one breast out of her dress, her nipple between his fingers, kissing her neck and cheek, sucking at her skin –

“Please, Steve, please,” Darcy whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut. Seeing herself beg was a little much.

He pressed a finger inside her, Darcy whining and squirming, backing into him with urgency.

“I know it doesn’t take much to make you happy,” he whispered, laughing a little. “But I’m feeling generous –”

He had three fingers inside her, and Darcy knew she was wet enough for him to slip in with ease, his grunt blending with her gasp.

“You _are_ tight,” he whispered. He pulled them out, cupping her, feeling her clit, rolling it. “Can I have you like this, baby?”

Darcy nodded, and he pushed her further into the sink, her arms shaking from the effort to stay upright. She felt the crown of his cock rub up against her and she shivered, anticipating it all.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, pushing inside her, Darcy’s groan punched out of her.

“ _Fuck_ …”

“I love watching your face, you go all pink,” he whispered, starting to thrust into her, hard and slow.

With each smack of his hips into her ass, Darcy let out a little cry. Her shoes slipped a little, Steve holding her tighter by the waist. He looked down at where he disappeared inside her, shoving her dress up until her ass was fully exposed.

“You feel so good,” Darcy slurred, and they both laughed, a little delirious.

Darcy looked down, seeing a drop fall to the tiles. A drop of her and Steve mixed together, undeniable. His hips picked up and Darcy dissolved into a longer moan, wanting him to hear how good she felt.

“It feels so good, I feel like I could die,” she whispered. “I could just fucking _disappear_ …”

She sounded cockdrunk, which was accurate. Steve moved up to kiss her on the mouth, sloppy but nonetheless tender.

She hadn’t been high in the while, but Steve made her feel anything but sober when he was fucking her this way, with the attention and precision she didn’t know she craved. Maybe she didn’t think this type of sex was something she’d have. Maybe she thought love was always going to be mediocre, or an uphill battle she’d never survive. She wasn’t settling.

Holy shit, I’m not settling, she thought, pleasure building faster and faster.

“I love you,” she panted.

“I love you, I love you,” Steve echoed, hand on her ass, the other on her chest, lips by her face. He was watching them again.

Darcy managed to open her eyes, seeing her sweaty face, her makeup ruined, her eyes glazed with lust as the bathroom was filled with their panting and moans, the wet slaps of their bodies together.

“All my holes are yours,” she whispered, and Steve’s mouth fell open.

It was by far the dirtiest thing she’d ever said aloud. She wanted to, she felt like she could say anything to him, anything she’d thought was too dirty to say aloud with anyone else.

“They are, they’re all yours. I’m yours,” she whispered.

“I’m gonna come,” he warned, but she shook her head.

“I’m all yours, Steve,” she whispered.

He caught her in a rushed kiss, their teeth clacking, his fingers desperately slipping down her front to play with her clit, Darcy going still as her climax slammed into her.

Steve groaned, feeling her clutch him as tight as possible deep inside, riding her wave out, his trusts turning brutal. He came with a grunt, holding her as close as possible, the room still spinning as Darcy twitched.

He pulled out, clutching her face in his hands when she spun around, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Ask me what I want for Christmas,” Darcy whispered, barely audible.

“What do you want for Christmas?”

“You,” she whispered. “All of you.”

He kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, but we know Steve didn't actually need Darcy's help to get his cuff links on, because he's done it alone many times before. he's just in love.
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)  
> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	12. xii. Gee, I Wonder Why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're in looooooooove and I'm in love with their loooooove, it's gross

_And when I felt like I was an old cardigan_   
_Under someone's bed_   
_You put me on and said I was your favorite_   
**\- "cardigan" by Taylor Swift**

_One word from you and I would_   
_Jump off of this_   
_Ledge I'm on_   
_Baby_   
**\- "First Love / Late Spring" by Mitski**

**xii. Gee, I Wonder Why**

“I can’t believe you do this,” Darcy whispered, watching Steve bend down to tie his other sneaker.

He was wearing a pair of navy pants and a worn grey hoodie, giving a little smile as Darcy moved to grip his thigh, kissing the side of his face. He turned his head, eyes dipping to her chest where the blanket had fallen away.

“You can come with me.”

“ _No_ , thank you,” Darcy said. “But I’ll say hi to your friend.”

When Steve said he planned to go for a jog with his friend Sam that morning, Darcy thought he was joking, before realizing he was being serious, and then she wondered why, given his work ethic. Of course Steve was more than willing to exercise in December Manhattan weather.

“You know it’s 26 degrees right now?” she murmured, and he turned his head, their noses brushing.

He cupped her cheek to kiss her, Darcy smiling into it. None of this stopped, not even when Steve was sleeping. He latched onto her and hugged her tight. There wasn’t a moment when he wasn’t touching her, except now as he pulled away to rise from the bed.

Darcy followed him, wrapping her robe around her, piling her hair into a haphazard ponytail, walking into the kitchen at her own pace, as Steve moved around, making a protein shake, checking his watch more than once. There was a knock as Darcy was midway through her first mug of coffee, Steve walking out to answer it.

Darcy’s stomach flipped, waiting as she heard voices beyond. Within another minute, Sam walked into with Steve, grinning at Darcy. They were the same age, Sam’s deep skin glowing way too much for that early and that cold.

“Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Sam,” he said, coming forward.

Firm handshake, warm eyes. Darcy smiled back at him, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“Nice to meet you, too,” she murmured. She sipped more coffee. “Quick question, are you insane?”

“I’m just like your man,” Sam retorted, and Darcy grinned a little wider, glancing at Steve, who’d been watching her the entire time. “So I guess you’d be able to answer that yourself.”

“A resounding yes,” Steve said, before Darcy could say. “I’m guessing.”

Steve came toward her, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“We’ll be back in an hour.”

“Okay. Don’t slip on any ice,” Darcy said, glancing at them both. “And don’t get frostbite.”

“I’ll make sure he comes back in one piece, ma’am,” Sam said, with a little nod.

Steve lingered, Sam moving back with a little shake of his head. Steve met her eyes again, framing her face with his big hands. His thumb brushed her cheek.

“I love you, you know that, right?” he whispered, and she nodded.

He kissed her again, until Darcy was pushing his chest with her spare hand.

“Go, go now,” she whispered, and he ducked his head, chuckling.

“Sorry…”

She wanted to tell him to never apologize for how he expressed himself. She didn’t care about any of those boundaries he had before she came along. She opened her mouth, her phone buzzing in her pocket, interrupting them.

She took it out, seeing it was her mom on the Caller ID. She gave a little frown, putting it away again.

“I’ll call her back later,” she said, and Steve pressed one last kiss to her forehead, nodding.

She liked that he didn’t tell her what to do. He was fine with her lazing around in the apartment as he raced off with his friend. He didn’t push. Darcy felt all warm and dreamy when he left, waiting for the coffee to kick in as she curled up in front of the window by the dining table.

She drew her knees up, feeling her phone buzz again, her eyes on the skyline, peering down at all the life. She could ignore her family there without feeling too guilty. She took a picture, sending it to Jane, since she sent her a picture of Miami Beach.

Darcy put on another Christmas playlist and opened her laptop, perusing her emails for the first time in a few days. She knew, somewhere she’d managed to hide away inside her - that she needed to get a job. She couldn’t sit around all day and not get bored.

 _Jingle Bell Rock_ played as she scrolled through several rejection letters. Most were automated, cold and so distant to an actual human response at an attempt to impress a potential employer. She couldn’t imagine how miserable she’d be if she had to do this all alone at the Queens apartment and not here, where it was warm and cosy.

She was distracted when Eartha Kitt’s rendition of Santa Baby came on, just as Darcy was bringing up some job ads. She glanced away from her laptop screen, listening as the lyrics dripped with irony.

_Santa honey, I want a yacht and really that's not a lot_

_Been an angel all year_

She snorted into her shoulder, closing her eyes. Her giggles began to build as the song went on. She put aside her laptop and picked up her phone, opening her messages to Steve.

She did what she knew would get her in a lot of trouble, and sent him a selfie from the bathroom, before she stepped into the shower, the robe at her feet.

-

“I should call her back,” Darcy said, with a little groan to follow.

“Your mom?” Steve said, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder.

Darcy was lying on her front, hands resting on Steve’s chest as she peered down at him, his gym gear on the floor. The second Sam left he’d turned to her and scooped her up, carting her back to bed. Darcy’s chest was dotted with little marks Steve’s mouth had left behind. Her long hair curtained them both, Darcy nodding.

She didn’t want to be responsible. She wanted to pretend she had no family to disappoint, which would inevitably happen when she called any of them back. She nodded at Steve, slumping a little, Steve’s hand in her hair.

“Don’t do it, then. Give it a couple days.”

“It’s five days until Christmas,” Darcy said, and he nodded.

“I know. But don’t do anything you don’t want to.”

She stared at him, frowning a little.

“Why are you so good to me?” she whispered, and he shushed her, shaking his head.

He leaned up to kiss her on the lips, Darcy melting into it. When he broke away to breathe, he rubbed her cheek with his thumb, throat bobbing.

“First time in twenty years I had a Christmas tree,” he said, and Darcy covered his hand with her own, feeling her eyes smart. “Don’t cry, honey…”

“I’m _not_ ,” Darcy whispered, glancing upward, rubbing her eyes.

Darcy’s phone began to buzz, sitting up, reaching for it. Steve’s arm was still wrapped around her middle, kissing her neck as she answered, hoping her mom wouldn’t hear how emotional she’d suddenly got.

“Hey, Mom…”

“Darcy, you have to come home. I know you’re probably not in the spirit, currently…”

Darcy forgot that her mom had only known she’d been fired. She probably thought Darcy was drinking exclusively egg nog and only wearing sweatpants. Darcy adjusted a little, closing her eyes as Steve began to rub circles into her back.

“I think it’s better if I see you and dad in the New Year, Mom,” Darcy murmured. “So we don’t end up screaming at each other over the turkey next Friday –”

“Darcy, you’ve got to. For your sister.”

“Why? Hannah’s fine, she gets it,” Darcy said, frowning now.

She knew she’d been neglecting Hannah lately. She was only ever kind to Darcy, but they lived in completely different worlds. Except now that she knew Steve, maybe Darcy wasn’t so far away from the circle her sister occupied.

Her mother’s voice dropped.

“Dylan cheated on her.”

 _“What?”_ Darcy shrieked, Steve’s lips going still, his hand stopping. “He what?”

“Apparently he was seeing this woman, she showed up at Hannah’s office, her phone full of texts. And these pictures – God, _these pictures_ , Darcy –”

“Hannah got cheated on? Who the fuck cheats on Hannah?” Darcy said, sitting up, passing a hand through her hair. She needed to call Hannah.

“You need to come and help us sort it out,” her mother went on. “She came early, and she’s been moping on the couch for the last two days –”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Darcy muttered. “Mom, she can’t marry the guy now.”

“Why not? They’ve been together eight years. She’s meant to start over again? At her age?”

“Mom,” Darcy said, a little sharper. “That’s insane. He was the one she trusted most, and her life they knew together is _over_.”

Her mom paused, and Darcy looked down at Steve, covering the phone for a second.

“I’m okay, I promise,” she whispered.

He was watching her, rubbing her shoulder.

“Mom?” she prompted.

“Your father saw you in the newspaper, at some event,” she said, and Darcy felt her stomach drop. “You weren’t alone, so maybe you can bring over this new guy, help cheer Hannah up?”

“Mom, that’s the last thing Hannah needs, seeing me with Steve.”

Steve’s brows hiked and Darcy shook her head at him, flapping a hand.

“Mom, please. He’s busy…”

“I can speak to her,” Steve whispered, and Darcy’s eyes widened.

“No,” she hissed to him, horrified. He put up both hands in defense, flopping back down onto the mattress. “Mom, it’s too short notice. I can call Hannah, come see her soon –”

“Your sister needs to see you _Christmas Day_ , Darcy,” her mom said. “It’s the least you can do.”

Darcy shut her eyes, knowing her mom was right. She couldn’t imagine what Hannah was going through. A part of her was hurt, too. Dylan had been a constant fixture for nearly a decade. He was like having a Ken doll as an older brother. Her mind was reeling. Hannah, sitting on a couch, feeling sorry for herself? That was a Darcy Lewis thing to do, not a Hannah Lewis thing. Hannah should be with her friends at a club, getting free drinks and giggling on her Instagram stories.

At least, that was what Hannah had been like before Dylan.

Darcy took a deep breath.

“Okay, Mom.”

“Thank you, darling.”

When Darcy hung up, she took one look at Steve, putting her face in her hands when he said:

“So, I’m meeting your family on Christmas?”

She began to laugh, because her brain was officially broken. Then, though dramatic but completely necessary, she grabbed her pillow behind her and buried her face in it, smothering her scream.

Darcy emerged, red-faced and breathless, Steve’s hand finding her back again to rub her.

“I need… I need to get drunk, like, right now,” she mumbled.

“It’ll be okay, baby.”

“You don’t know these people like I do,” Darcy said, laughing bitterly. “They’re gonna have you running for the hills –”

“Does Rochester have that many hills to run to?” Steve cut in, and Darcy couldn’t joke like he was, shaking her head at him.

“Steve… I’m serious.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said, and he was sitting up, taking Darcy’s face in his hands, pressing his forehead to hers. “And if it’s not, we get outta there, come back here and eat gingerbread for dinner instead.”

“We don’t have any gingerbread,” Darcy mumbled, but she was starting to smile.

“We’ve got a few days to get some,” he said.

He kissed her, Darcy sighing despite her twisting guts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imagine bringing Steve home for Christmas
> 
> imagine Steve
> 
> just imagine Steve
> 
> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	13. xiii. And I Ruined Your Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **cw** : toxic family dynamics, downright asshole behavior

_And Christmas is going to the dogs_  
_We'd rather have chew toys than yule logs_  
_And things aren't looking very good, it's true_  
_So, I'll just lay here and chew_  
**\- "Christmas Is Going To The Dogs" by Eels**

_And everything is icy and blue_  
_And you would be there too_  
_Under the mistletoe_  
_Watching the fire glow_  
_And telling me, "I love you"_  
**\- "Christmas Tree Farm" by Taylor Swift**

_You won't recover_  
_You ain't as young as you used to be_  
_It might be time to face it_  
**\- "Might Be Time" by Tame Impala**

_Go ahead and cry, little girl_  
_Nobody does it like you do_  
_I know how much it matters to you_  
_I know that you got daddy issues_  
_And if you were my little girl_  
_I'd do whatever I could do_  
_I'd run away and hide with you_  
**\- "Daddy Issues" by The Neighborhood**

**xiii. And I Ruined Your Life**

Darcy’s stomach was in knots as they stepped out of the car that Steve parked on the street.

She appreciated the little jokes he’d made along the way, at his expense. He hadn’t driven a car in a few months, he was rusty, and because there was ice on the roads in Rochester, maybe he’d flip the rental and they’d never make it to Darcy’s family home. He was trying to keep the mood light, while Darcy’s own head was full of worries and dark thoughts. She leaned on her elbow, her eyes watching the world whip by as he drove.

She hadn’t had this before, another person to bear the load with her. She’d never brought a guy home before. She had several ideas about how badly this could go. Something inside kept urging her to tell Steve to pull over so she could run in the direction they came from. She knew after this he’d see her differently. It was easier to keep this side of her hidden away, and she was afraid that after this, he’d have reason to second-guess the choices he made that led to Darcy spending this Christmas with him.

She couldn’t stop thinking about how he hadn’t had a Christmas tree for twenty years, either. She knew it meant she’d changed a lot for him. He’d spent two decades doing other things for other people, avoiding memories of his past.

The last few days, Darcy had spent like Steve’s card was burning a hole in her purse. She got gifts for everyone they’d be seeing. She’d baked and watched as many Christmas movies she could since she hung up the phone with her mom. Last night, they’d giggled like kids as they built a gingerbread house together, leaving it on the dining table, messily decorated, icing everywhere.

There were so many sweet, sticky kisses after that. They were insatiable, but every time Darcy tried to sleep for the last few nights, it had been a struggle. She rubbed her eyes as she shut the car door, heart beginning to hammer as Steve came to her side, offering a hand.

The air was in front of their faces as they ascended the stone steps up to the front door. Darcy always felt strange coming home, and last time she’d been there she’d been so sullen because she had to go there alone. She let out a shaky breath as she rose a mittened hand to knock on the door.

“I’m right here,” Steve said, and she nodded, taking a deep breath in and out.

She finally knocked, glancing up at Steve, who gave her a little smile, the creases by his eyes showing. She knew the exit strategy, she just hoped it didn’t come to that. They had booked a hotel close to the airport and they’d be back in Manhattan tomorrow anyway. Darcy had no intention of staying any longer. She hoped on the plane ride home she wouldn’t be crying.

It was Christmas. She didn’t want a single tear shed if she could help it.

The door opened and Darcy turned her head away from Steve, glancing at her mother Joan that stood in her apron, beaming down at her daughter.

“Darcy, honey –”

She brought her into a hug, without the reproachful look for once. Darcy wasn’t expecting the warmth at all, but it was clear she was so excited to see Steve beside her. She’d done something right, for once. It was too bad her mom was so old-fashioned in that sense.

“Hey, Mom,” Darcy murmured, hugging her back. They broke apart and Darcy gestured to Steve.

“This is Steve. My… boyfriend,” she said, and Joan grinned.

Darcy knew she looked like her mother, she was just shorter and rounder than her. Joan kept looking at Darcy as she took Steve’s hand he offered to shake.

“ _Wow_ , nice to meet you _Steve_ ,” she said. “How long has she been hiding you from us?”

“Not too long, ma’am,” he said, and Darcy felt her stomach flip. “I’ve known your daughter a few months.”

That wasn’t true, but Darcy appreciated the smoothly spun tall tale. They stepped inside, where Darcy could smell the turkey and roast vegetables, along with the distinct scents of clove and cinnamon wafting through from the kitchen. Christmas carols were playing from the den, where no doubt her dad was sitting with a beer and Adam beside him. Darcy gulped, feeling a little sick as the reality of everything came crashing down – Steve was in her family home, he was meeting her parents, he was taking it all in…

Joan took Steve by the arm and was leading him down the hallway, Darcy following, her hands balled by her sides. As they stepped through, Darcy’s eyes fell to the familiar figure of Lawrence Lewis, her father.

“Larry, dear. Darcy’s here, and she brought someone.”

As if Joan hadn’t spilled that Darcy was bringing him earlier to him. Darcy was pretty sure her dad was the one that spotted her with Steve at the event, whichever one it was, in the newspaper. Darcy moved toward the couch, Adam absent for the first time in forever. She didn’t ask where he was, not yet. She was too afraid of moving too fast through this first moment with her parents, alone with her and Steve.

“Hi, Dad,” Darcy said, and he stood up, the couch giving a little squeak, as Darcy leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. His face scratched, he never shaved on Christmas morning, it was the one day he didn’t all year.

She stepped back. “This is Steve. Steve, this is my dad, Lawrence.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Steve said, shaking his hand.

For the first time ever, Darcy saw her father smile at a stranger within seconds of meeting their eyes. She’d passed the test, the Daughter Test. She put her hands in the back of her jeans, clearing her throat.

“Well, do you – do you want a drink, pal?” Larry said, and Steve gave a little smile.

“Sure. Yes, please…”

“Beer okay?”

“Beer’s great.”

What the fuck? Darcy stared at them, at her dad moving away to go into the kitchen, Steve’s eyes meeting hers. He gave another little smile.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” she murmured. Joan beside her reached out to touch her shoulder, eyes glancing down at her daughter’s front.

“I love this sweater, is it cashmere?”

“Yeah, it’s new,” Darcy murmured, distracted. She knew she usually looked like shit when she saw her parents, and for once she wasn’t wearing anything that was torn or had food stains. “Where’s Adam? Is he with the Dawsons?”

The Dawsons were her older brother’s in-laws. Adam usually came for Christmas night, having spent all day with his children and wife’s family two towns over.

Joan shifted, something passing over her face Darcy couldn’t miss. “No, he’s downstairs, with your sister.”

Hannah was on thin ice, probably. Darcy nodded.

“I’ll go say hi. Steve, you…”

“I’ll sit here with your dad, sweetheart,” he said, and Darcy took his hand for a second, squeezing it.

She knew it was a risk to leave him alone upstairs but he was brave, and smart. She trusted him, anyone would. She broke away, slipping out into the hallway again, taking the stairs to the basement two at a time.

She pushed the door open, hearing the soft volume of the TV. She was met with her siblings, Adam looking like something out of a knitting catalog, handsome and neat, while Hannah sunk into the lumpy old couch, her eyes lifeless as she took in the TV.

Adam lit up, looking relieved at the sight of someone new.

“Hey, Darce!”

“Hi,” she said, hand up in a little wave, like she was five.

It was an old habit. Her older brother was never close to her, it made Darcy feel like she’d been adopted because they were nothing alike. She didn’t expect him to come over and hug her, kissing her face. He looked down at her, face changing.

“You look really good.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, asshole,” Darcy murmured, and he pulled away, eyes averting.

“I didn’t mean –”

“I’m kidding,” Darcy cut in. He wasn’t great with irony. She glanced over at Hannah, who hadn’t made a move. “Hey, Hannah.”

Her sister’s eyes swung to hers, her lips pressing together in a thin line. She looked like a wreck, as if her broken heart had made her physically ill. She was pale with dark marks under her eyes. Her curls were tangled in two frizzy braids, her lumpy sweater stained. It read _Let It Snow_ , with a snowman beneath it that looked like he’d seen better winters.

Darcy didn’t wait for her to get up, instead coming over to the couch to sit next to her. She pulled her into a hug, for once initiating the embrace.

“I’m puffy,” Hannah whispered, like an apology.

“I could fucking kill him,” Darcy whispered back, referring to Dylan.

Hannah let out a dark little laugh, pulling back and wiping her face with her hands. She had a set of red nails, several popped off. Her engagement ring was still there. As if sensing Darcy’s eyes on it, she shoved her hand into her sleeve to make a clothed paw, folding her arms.

“Mom said you brought a guy,” she rasped.

“Yeah, who is he?” Adam said, and Darcy felt her cheeks begin to heat.

There were footsteps and they turned their heads, Joan and Steve appearing a second later. It was so strange to see Steve, her Steve, with her family. Darcy gave him a little smile, as Hannah let out a little groan:

“Oh, _Jesus_.”

She covered her face with her sweater, hiding as Steve’s brows lifted. Ignoring Hannah’s little forlorn outburst, Adam came toward Steve to shake his hand.

“I’m Adam, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Steve said. “I’m Steve.”

“I thought he should come down and say hello,” Joan said, raising her voice a little as she looked at Hannah on the couch.

There was an awkward pause and Steve said to Hannah, who was still hiding:

“Nice to meet you.”

“Please… don’t look at me,” she mumbled, and she emerged, rubbing her red face.

Darcy hadn’t seen Hannah this way before. She’d fallen back through that crack in the pavement, into the alternate universe where she and Steve were together, and everyone else was there, too. Steve swallowed, turning his attention back to Adam.

“How’s work been? Especially this time of year?” he asked, and Adam launched into a long explanation of his schedule.

Darcy felt Hannah nudge her and turned her head toward her, seeing her older sister’s eyes were wide.

“What the fuck? How _old_ is he?” she whispered.

“Does it matter?” Darcy through back, suddenly self-conscious.

She was waiting for the inevitable follow-up questions, about what he was doing with her of all people, since he looked like that, et cetera, et cetera… Darcy’s stomach twisted as Hannah glanced over at Steve, who was listening intently to Adam speak, tipping his beer back.

“He’s a lot older than you,” Hannah whispered. “ _Darcy_ …”

“What?” Darcy snapped, defensive. “Say what you mean –”

“Girls, I was going to start serving. I’ll need help setting the table,” Joan interrupted, which Darcy was actually thankful for, for once.

“Adam’s up, ask him,” Hannah retorted, which was so unlike her.

She was always so compliant and willing to run around for their mother. Now, she was so much like Darcy it was like looking into a mirror. Darcy nodded at her mom, rising from the couch.

“It’s okay, I can do it,” she said, walking toward the doorway.

Steve looked at her, stopping mid-sentence as he spoke to Adam:

“Do you want some help?”

“I’m okay,” Darcy said, with a little smile. “Stay here, relax.”

“Okay,” he said.

He had that look in his eye, he wanted to kiss her, but he wasn’t going to without her permission. She took a step toward him, aware of their audience, but determined for him to know he could kiss her whenever he wanted, it wasn’t something she intended to ever take away.

She planted a kiss on the corner of his mouth, Steve smiling into the next one, a little peck between them. Darcy’s face burned as she pulled away, racing back upstairs.

She set the table, in view of the den where Larry was sitting alone again, his beer bottle glued to his hand.

“How are you, Darcy?”

He never asked her, probably because he didn’t want to know. It was more her mom’s territory to attempt to circumnavigate. It was always a treacherous journey that time of year.

“Uh, pretty good, considering,” she said. “Y’know, with… not having a job and all.”

“You’ll get another job,” he said, taking a drink, eyes elsewhere.

He didn’t… seem bothered. Darcy looked away, back at the stack of napkins she’d begun to place under the cutlery.

“Okay. Thanks, Dad,” she murmured.

Joan appeared, smiling at Darcy when she walked in, coming over to rub her shoulders and plant a kiss on the side of her face.

“I am so happy for you, darling,” she whispered, and Darcy wished she didn’t like it so much, seeing her mom happy with her for once.

Had she become Hannah, and Hannah had become her? It seemed to be that way when they all sat down to eat ten minutes later, the turkey in the middle of the table. Darcy and Steve sat beside one another, Adam and Hannah opposite them, Joan and Larry at the heads of the table.

Steve’s hand slipped into hers at some point, without looking at her, and she appreciated it too much to put into words, the steadiness of it, the acceptance in his touch. He used his spare for his fork, talking to Larry about trade tariffs. Adam was busy talking to Joan about his girls while Hannah ate plate after plate of food, head down and sulking. Darcy reached under the table with her foot, nudging her sister’s calf. She was ignored the first couple of times, until Hannah shot her a petulant glare.

“What?” she hissed, and Darcy retreated, feeling like a child.

“Hannah, you’re slouching,” Joan said. “I’d hate Steve to think we’re a bunch of hunchbacks.”

“It’s fine, I tend to fall on top of tables at dinnertime,” Steve murmured, Darcy squeezing his hand a couple times. He looked at her, a little smile forming. “Right?”

“Yeah.”

“Does she cook okay for you, Steve?” Joan said, which Darcy hadn’t expected. “She always burned everything when I tried to teach her the basics –”

“Mom, that was one time, and I was sixteen,” she said. “You set off the smoke alarm one time and you’re labelled a bad cook for life…”

She didn’t like the way the conversation had turned to domesticity. Darcy didn’t excel at that, but Steve had never mentioned it bothering him. In fact, whatever she did manage to do was always given an appreciative kiss or caress.

“Careful, Darce, you better bake him a pie,” Hannah said through her mouthful of roast potato, a scornful chuckle following. She stabbed another potato.

“Your mouth is already stuffed, Hannah Lewis, you don’t need any more food in it as it is,” Joan muttered, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Did Mom tell you I needed rescuing, little sister?” Hannah said, ignoring their mother. She put up a hand when Joan opened her mouth to object. “Cause I’m pretty sure you were going to bail on this year, too.”

“I’m not great during the holidays,” Darcy admitted, her voice a little smaller. “I… don’t like who I am when I come home.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Joan said, and Darcy swallowed.

“I… I don’t know,” she mumbled. “But… Hannah has a right to know I came back for her.”

“That’s not very nice,” Adam said, looking like a puppy she’d kicked.

“Steve doesn’t need to hear any of this,” Larry spoke up. “Do you, Steve?”

Steve said nothing, but Darcy knew he was thinking, observing, calculating as he took it all in. She knew he hadn’t turned cold because of her. By any other person’s estimate, all he’d done was gone a little quieter, but she knew him better. He was quickly going into Lawyer Mode.

“Mom’s _worried_ ,” Hannah muttered.

“About Dylan?” Darcy said, and Hannah smirked.

“Yeah. That and the weight I’m gaining. I mean, for once she’s not fatshaming you because you’ve got a man she can throw herself at –”

“Hannah Lewis,” Larry began, but Hannah was too busy laughing at her own insult, Joan turning pink as her brows furrowed.

“You can’t take it out on us, the fact that your relationship took a turn,” Adam said, and Hannah glared at him, sitting back a little in her chair.

“Excuse me? Since when are you the expert? You married a pod person.”

“And you weren’t about to?” Adam threw back.

“Hey, let’s –” Darcy dropped her fork, trying for the first time in her life to be the mediator. “Let’s not do this, okay? At least not until we’re onto dessert.”

Adam backed down a little, his jaw ticking as he went back to his plate, eyes averted, Hannah doing the same. Joan drew in a breath, touching her hair, glancing at Steve.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said. It wasn’t. Darcy knew it wasn’t, but he was being a good sport.

“We didn’t raise our children to be like this when a guest is over,” Joan added. “Believe it or not.”

“Jesus Christ, Mom,” Hannah said, beginning to laugh, low and mirthlessly.

“Well, I’m just explaining that we’re not always like this,” Joan said. “You’re not yourself.”

“Yeah, and Darcy’s not depressed and fat,” Hannah said.

Never in all her life had Hannah been that mean. Darcy stared at her sister, who wasn’t looking at her, only at their mother. Darcy had frozen, waiting for her sister to take it back, to make it right. Had she always been this mean, and she never noticed? Did she feel sorry for her, all those years, so she hadn’t aimed that venom toward her? Had Dylan hurt her that badly that she no longer cared about anyone’s feelings?

“Stop,” came a voice, from beside her.

Steve had enough. Hannah licked her lips, glancing his way. Everyone watched, waiting for the next strike. Steve was perfectly poised, his jaw set, his hand still holding Darcy’s in her lap.

“Okay,” Hannah said. “Curvy. Darcy’s _curvy_.”

Darcy wanted to cuss her out. If she was someone else, she would, but it was her sister and she loved her. She wanted to reach across the table and slap the smile off her face. She was enjoying hurting her, because she was hurting. She didn’t respect her baby sister. Not even close.

“Darcy’s a very pretty girl,” Joan said, breaking the silence. “And I’m sure Steve sees that in her, or he wouldn’t –”

“Oh, _Mother_ ,” Hannah said, with false cheer. “Your youngest daughter was getting a lump of coal before Dylan fucked up my life. And everyone here knows it. You made sure she’d come so I’d be scared into getting back with my cheating fiancé. You think I’m over the fucking hill.”

She took another bite of potato while no-one else moved.

“And what the fuck is he doing here, anyway, with her? Like, are you kidding me? How is that fair?”

She rolled her eyes, before looking at Darcy, finally.

“I did everything right, and _you_ –”

“What,” Darcy bit out.

“I don’t even want to compare myself to you,” Hannah sneered. “ _I was planning a wedding in Aruba last month_ and this time two years ago you had pie stains on your dress that was two fucking sizes too small –”

She put up two fingers for emphasis, one of them missing a false nail.

“- and we were all pretending we didn’t know how much you stank of weed and tequila all weekend long.”

Steve already knew she was messy before he met her. She probably wasn't good enough for him, and now her sister was trying to confirm that, along with the rest of her family.

Steve loosened a half-laugh, Darcy turning her head to stare at him.

“And I’m in love her, so what’s your point?” he said.

Hannah made a similar laugh, staring back at him.

“Mom, tell Darcy what you told me two weeks ago.”

“No, I won’t,” Joan said, shaking her head. “I think that’s more than enough embarrassment for tonight. We should be celebrating Christmas, not bickering.”

It wasn’t bickering. It was a duel of pistols at dawn to Darcy, since Hannah had cracked this wide open, this rift Darcy had with everyone else.

“You said were fine with her never coming back, if she chose not to,” Hannah said.

She picked up her wine glass, draining it. She smacked her lips, a triumphant gleam in her eye. Darcy turned her eyes toward her mother, seeing her narrow her eyes ever so slightly at Hannah.

“You didn’t say that,” Steve said. “You didn’t say that.”

“Of course she did,” Hannah said. “And you wanna know what else?”

Larry suddenly slammed a fist onto the table, everything shuddering, wine spilling onto the tablecloth as everyone jolted, except Darcy, who’d expected it.

“Stop this _immediately_ , Hannah.”

“Mommy had too much wine and told me –”

“Stop it, Hannah, I swear to God,” Larry thundered, and Darcy felt her stomach turn over, her heart racing.

“You weren’t ever meant to be _born_ , Darcy,” she said.

Adam, who never cussed, hissed under his breath: “You fucking bitch, Hannah.”

Darcy shut her eyes, letting everything roll over her. She’d always suspected it, but it wasn’t something she wanted to know, deep down. The age difference between herself and her sister, how her parents always seemed a little distant from her, never enough patience as her older siblings made their way through the world…

“I was a mistake,” she said, finally.

“You’re not,” Steve said. “You’re not a mistake, Darcy.”

He got up then, putting his napkin aside. He noticed what Darcy had, which was that no-one at the table was going to apologize to her, or defend her. Her mother had gone bright red, her hands shaking as she picked up her wine glass to sip. Larry was glaring at his eldest daughter, while Adam had put a hand over his face.

“We’re leaving, baby,” he whispered, and she nodded, letting him take her hand.

She was numb, completely floored by how her family had reacted. She knew Steve was disgusted, but it wasn’t a reflection of her. They were her blood, but not her family.

He leaned over to do up her seat belt when she’d frozen still in her seat, her purse in her hands, staring straight ahead, through the windshield. He started the car, putting into the GPS the hotel for them to drive towards.

It was only a little after 8PM. They’d been at her house less than an hour for everything to unravel, a new record for Darcy. She’d laugh, if she could move.

She began to sob, sucking in a breath, feeling as if she’d been kicked in the chest, remembering it all over again, and she doubled-over in her seat, Steve slowing down.

He pulled over and Darcy was wailing, pulled into his arms for him to rock her, her fingers like claws in his arms. She felt like a feral animal, overwhelmed by everything. She’d spent so long, so many years worrying about what those people thought of her. It turned out it didn’t matter at all, and she was haunted by what she would have done differently if she had known the truth.

People were accidents all the time. She was pretty sure Jane was an unplanned pregnancy. She didn’t like that this mattered to her so much now, with her family. A part of her must have always hoped they’d wanted her when instincts told her otherwise.

Steve cupped her face.

“Darcy, you are not a mistake. But do you know how lucky I am to have you?”

Darcy closed her eyes, shaking her head.

“I mean it,” he said, a little fiercer. He kissed her lips. “Do you how unlikely it was, for me to meet you, for you to be in my life, in any of my lives?”

Darcy sniffled, blinking up at him. “Steve…”

“I saw you before that day,” he said, and she stared at him, hands raised to wrap her fingers around his wrists.

“What?”

“I saw you, at the office, before the day you got fired. I was with Brock – we were on fifth for half a second, the first time –”

“The _first_ time?” Darcy repeated, her mind reeling.

Steve nodded, smiling down at her. “You dropped some papers, and you were cussing the table out for knocking your hip –”

That sounded just like her. Darcy gave a little sigh, nodding.

“- and the other times, after – I… I didn’t mean to look for you, but you were there. You were always so kind to everyone, even the assholes that were so entitled. And then you walked into the elevator.”

“And I ruined your life,” she muttered, and he smiled a little wider.

“For good reason,” he said.

They went quiet, Steve leaning down to kiss her, slanting their mouths together, pouring himself into it, Darcy’s breath hitching as his hand moved to cup the back of her head.

“I have something,” he murmured, when they eventually separated.

He’d already given her several presents that morning, including the sweater she was wearing. She sniffed, frowning a little.

“What?”

“Just a second,” he said, and he was leaning over to reach the back seat, unzipping a compartment of his little suitcase, hand diving in.

He pulled out a little box, handing it to her. Darcy popped it open, her eyes widening.

It was a little gold key, with a ‘D’ engraved in it.

“For my place. If… if you want it.”

“If I _want_ it?” Darcy said, and she tugged him into a kiss, Steve giving a little grunt on impact.

When they broke apart, Darcy was rubbing his nose with hers, panting a little.

“I love you like crazy,” he whispered.

She didn’t ask him why that was so, she only said it back to him, believing everything to be true.

“I love you like crazy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)
> 
> next time: nye, plenty of kisses and love


	14. xiv. Where I'm Supposed To Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you had a good Christmas, however you spent it, I love you like crazy

_I'm a tough bitch, but I'm sensitive_  
**\- "Cry" by Ashnikko & Grimes**

_He's watching how far I can go_  
_Loves it when I get in my zone_  
**\- "Throatzillaaa" by Slayyyter**

_And syncopate my skin to your heart beating_  
_'Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you, oh-oh_  
_I just wanna look good for you, good for you, oh-oh_  
_Let me show you how proud I am to be yours_  
**\- "Good for You" by Selena Gomez & A$AP Rocky**

_I'm the baddest bitch_  
_Let me show you a magic trick_  
_I can make it disappear_  
_Watch this_  
**\- "FMU" by Brooke Candy & Rico Nasty**

_It's almost like you're not afraid of anything I do_  
_How I want you here_  
_You don't know what it's like to be around you_  
_I still got my fear_  
**\- "Oblivions" by The National**

**xiv. Where I'm Supposed To Be**

The rest of Christmas night, she was insatiable and hysterical. She was coming and crying, holding onto Steve like he was a life saver, crawling on top of him and sobbing into the hotel pillow, wishing she could take every wave of pleasure and misery in her stride.

Eventually, she ended up at the bottom of the shower, her knees to her chest, the water running down on her back as she shivered. Steve came to find her, putting an arm around her, murmuring into her ear:

“We’re gonna stay here as long as you need.”

Darcy wanted to argue, but she was aching, in her chest and between her legs. She felt broken, stomped on and rubbed raw. Making sense of everything was making her head hurt, tears spilling over without her sobbing.

-

The silence from Darcy’s family that followed Christmas night was deafening. She returned to the city and heard nothing for a few days. It was always a strange mess, the week that followed Christmas. Every year, Darcy never knew what to do with the time leftover of the year. Steve went back to work, returning each night, at Darcy’s insistence. Steve had wanted to take more time off, to spend it with her at home, but she didn’t want him only focused on her. If she was honest, she was worried she’d be too much for him, or perhaps he’d regret the sacrifices he made. She asked him to leave her each morning for her own sake – she didn’t want the guilt to manifest, so she didn’t allow the space.

She already was pushing back all the shame her family made her feel for existing in the first place. She couldn’t get over the venom Hannah had sprayed all over the dinner table back in Rochester. There wasn’t a single text or missed call from her, so Darcy didn’t reach out, either.

She knew these people tended to only give her pain and resentment, but she knew if any of them needed a kidney she’d give it to them. It was so strange, hating and loving them all.

She couldn’t bring herself to call Steve ‘Daddy’ at any point, no matter how sweet and loving he was. She had no relief from the grief she felt, because she did feel like someone had died, or at least that she’d lost something that Christmas night. She knew it wasn’t fair to Steve, but he kept telling her not to hide, through every touch and gesture of his.

She loved him so much, so wondered how she managed to find him, and she knew it was remarkable, his own words echoing in her head each morning she woke beside him.

_Do you how unlikely it was, for me to meet you, for you to be in my life, in any of my lives?_

And then the shame would be stripped away, because she knew she belonged there with him, but she still was wounded, but she was growing impatient, wishing her healing would hurry up. She was safe, after all, and the most secure she’d ever been in a relationship. There was nothing she could do that would change Steve’s mind. He stared at her like she invented what it was to be a woman. She’d put on a lumpy sweater to go out to get bagels and he’d have hearts in his eyes… and a hard-on for her to see when she returned.

The sex they had… it wasn’t the type of sex she could put into words, for other people to understand. She was uncharacteristically mum about it all, even when Jane begged her for details. She was happiest when she was covered in spit and come, her makeup ruined, her hair a gnarled mess, unable to walk without a limp. She loved to be wiped clean every night, obliterated by Steve’s hands, fucked stupid, fucked until she saw stars. She’d only reached that alone before, and then he found this new limit for her, purring with her in his arms, hearts in his eyes, coming down her throat, coming on her back, her stomach… there wasn’t a lot he hadn’t done to her by the end of the year.

It was New Year’s Eve and the Real World collided with them again, in the form of Adam reaching out in a phone call, that Darcy only picked up out of morbid curiosity, literally lying on top of Steve at the time, having woken later than usual, Steve having conveniently forgotten to set his usual alarm.

Darcy suspected she was in for a day of pampering, which she was all for, until Adam’s name popped up on her phone’s display on the bedside table.

“You don’t have to answer it,” Steve murmured, kissing the side of her face, his hand pushing down the strap of her camisole, one he’d purchased for her, so ridiculously soft that it felt like a second skin, the material melting into her torso.

“Why not?” she muttered. “He could’ve butt-dialed me, anyway –”

If she was honest, she was desperate for contact, for someone in her family to acknowledge how fucked up the night had been. Steve seemed to read this on her face, sighing a little as he pushed the hair out of her face, kissing her neck as Darcy put her phone to her ear.

“What is it, Adam?”

“Before you hang up, I want to thank you for taking my call in the first place,” he said, his words coming out in a rush.

Darcy strained her ears, trying to hear something, but she suspected he’d rose early and gone into his sleek study to make the call. She pictured the mahogany desk, wondering if it could take the weight of a couple bodies. Sex really was on her mind a lot those days, and she made a mental note to find out what type of desk Steve had at work, for… future excursion reasons.

“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for how everything went down,” he said.

“You’ll need to be specific,” Darcy said. She knew she needed Adam to say more than what was obvious. She needed to hear him say why it was fucked up, so it wasn’t just her and Steve processing this anymore. Darcy hadn’t told Jane about the night in any great detail, just that she never wanted to see her parents again, which was something she’d said many times before.

“I’m sorry that Hannah was so horrendous and I sat back and said nothing,” he said, and Darcy felt something bloom in her chest. His acknowledgment still left her suspicious.

“Do you just… feel guilty and you need to clear your conscience?”

Steve pulled back, looking deep into her eyes, Darcy’s desire beginning to stir again, distracting her. He leaned up to brush his lips to the corner of her mouth, Adam finding his voice.

“This is going to sound stupid,” he began, and Darcy let out a harsh laugh.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Okay, I deserved that,” he said, sighing. “I… don’t want my kids not knowing their aunts. I want them to know you, and for you to have an interest in their lives.”

“I have… some interest,” Darcy said. It was a half-lie.

Darcy used to have more interest, when they were babies and didn’t talk as much as they did now. They were too well-behaved for her taste, prim and proper for the tiny people they were. She knew they were more like their mother that way.

“I know you call them pod people, along with Amanda,” Adam said, referring to his wife, who Darcy knew had very little opportunity to defend herself lately. She was pretty harmless, tapping into every one of Darcy’s insecurities.

She was the type of woman she would have suspected Steve to want to marry, if she hadn’t met him in the way she did. She was perfect, with an ass like Rihanna’s.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s not why I called, I mean, I _know_ we’re pod people –”

“What?” Darcy said, a little surprised he’d changed tack. He sounded more like her, self-deprecating, and she remembered he used to be more like her when they were kids, before he left for college.

“I’d just like to think we were your pod people. Or we could be, one day. If you let that happen.”

Darcy went still, Steve frowning up at her, but she shook her head, realizing she may have spooked him by how serious she’d turned so fast.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Peanut.”

It’s what Adam had called her when their mom was pregnant with her. The story went that Adam saw an ultrasound and said she looked like a peanut, so maybe the youngest child was going to be a peanut and not a human baby. This memory felt a little tainted now, since it had been revealed Darcy was a mistake. She could sense Adam’s realization, his words stumbling.

“Maybe-maybe I shouldn’t call you that –”

“It’s alright, you dumbass,” Darcy cut in. “I understand.”

“I _am_ sorry,” he said.

There was a beat and Darcy heard him pull in a breath. This was the most humanity he’d shown in years to her. He was usually so put-together, flawless and leaving Darcy mystified. He cleared his throat.

“I left soon after you, because Mom turned on me pretty fast, too.”

“Why?” Darcy said.

“It’s a little… I mean, it’s a little anti-Semitic.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Darcy blurted, unable to help herself. “Since when?”

They were half-Jewish, after all. Not that they ever went to Temple. Darcy had only been a few times as a child, and she knew her father only went once a year. If he became more involved, then she’d be concerned. It was like it didn’t really exist in their lives, being Jewish, unlike in Jane’s very Orthodox family.

“Hannah spilled the beans about me wanting to convert, with my girls. With Amanda,” Adam said. He sounded ashamed, and Darcy couldn’t help feeling a little hurt again.

“You never told me,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry about that, too,” he muttered. “Mom’s worried.”

“About Amanda?”

Amanda was an Aryan poster-child by looks alone. Darcy was pretty sure her WASP family would disown them.

“No, about the Jew thing.”

“Seriously?” Darcy half-yelled. “What the fuck?”

“I know,” Adam muttered, sounding tired, like he’d had this conversation a dozen times. “And we’re wondering how we’re meant to include her in all this, if she doesn’t want her grandchildren raised that way.”

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense,” Darcy said, her voice dropping, aware of Steve watching her. “Did she fucking forget her husband is Jewish? That’s so fucked up…”

“Fucking A,” Adam murmured, and it was another rare moment of him swearing out-loud.

It was always ‘darn’ this and ‘Gosh’ that, so hearing him say a proper F-star-star-star-I-N-G only brought home how serious the situation was. Darcy let out a sigh.

“Dude, that sucks. That fucking sucks. I’m so sorry.”

“Well, yeah,” Adam said, laughing a little. “Thanks.”

She got the feeling he needed to hear her say that part out loud. There was another pause, and then Adam said:

“Steve seemed nice. Great guy, actually.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he is,” Darcy murmured.

“Is he – oh, wait – is he with you right now?” he babbled, and Darcy began to giggle, Steve’s thumb suddenly finding her nipple and circling it over her camisole. “I’m sorry, I’ll go…”

“That’s fine,” Darcy laughed. “You can call me some time, okay? Will you call me?”

“Yeah, if you promise to pick up.”

That was fair. She snorted, biting her lip, seeing Steve’s lips part at the sight of her plush lower lip between her teeth. His eyes had begun to glaze over.

“Alright. I’ll talk to you soon, asshole.”

“Okay, Peanut. Happy New Year.”

Darcy hung up with a chuckle, Steve tossing her phone aside, the device landing somewhere at the end of his bed, bouncing. She was pulled into a kiss, Steve’s lips sucking her tongue into his mouth, her worries beginning to rapidly melt away, replaced with sharpening desire, white-hot lust licking her insides, her core already needy. She gave a little whimper, Steve rolling them so she was pinned beneath him, their eyes meeting when they broke apart. He pushed down both straps of her camisole, lunging for a nipple, sucking it between his lips, tugging it with his teeth, enough for Darcy’s breath to hitch, a moan falling from her lips. She squirmed, Steve’s dark chuckle rumbling in his chest, the vibrations felt in Darcy’s stomach, licking her lips as her eyes fluttered shut.

 _“Daddy_ ,” she whispered.

“I missed that word,” he whispered, capturing her in another kiss, before he was gliding back down her neck, teeth nipping at skin, his hands pulling down her pajama shorts, slotting between her thighs when he’d got them off her ankles. His fingers slid up her bare legs, cupping her cunt as he sucked at her throat.

“These holes still mine?” he whispered, and Darcy whimpered, her face burning with want. His middle finger pressed down on her clit, circling it as Darcy began to squirm again. “I said, are these holes still mine?”

Darcy gave a little yelp, feeling his other hand under her butt, fingers gliding through her slick before they met the puckered hole between her cheeks.

“Y-yes, yes,” Darcy said, and Steve moved back up, leaving her ass alone, preoccupied with her cunt as he hovered his head above hers, their noses brushing. “Please…”

He kissed her, slower than before but just as thorough, his own moan blending with hers when Darcy retaliated with more heat. He pulled back with a soft smack of their lips, his eyes hooded, his cheeks flushed.

“Can’t wait to fuck you –”

“So do it,” Darcy retorted, lifting her chin, letting her legs fall further apart, lifting her hips a little, in an attempt to rub up against him, his fingers making absent-minded circles. “Fuck me. I’m yours.”

“I love you,” he breathed, his voice changing, softening. “Fuck, I love you so much…”

“Fuck me,” Darcy whispered, and he switched his hands up, shoving his underwear down and off his hips, Darcy managing to yank off her camisole, his hands finding her face to kiss her again, deep and consuming.

Darcy took hold of his cock, tugging him into her, both of them sighing into it, Steve’s hands changing again, grabbing her wrists to pin them above her head, thrusting as deep into her as possible, the air punched out of her lungs.

With each thrust, his nose brushed hers, their lips bumping, their rocking hard and slow. Darcy couldn’t keep quiet or still, not if he commanded her to, not if he fucking _paid_ her.

“I’m right where I’m supposed to be,” she slurred, losing herself in him, full to the brim and craving the release.

Their heads were both tilted, so they drank from one another, tongues tangling. It was delightfully messy, and Darcy knew he was going to mark her with either his nails or his mouth. She wanted it, gripping him tighter, a keening plea falling from her lips as he gave her everything, burying his face in her neck, her clit pinched and rolled.

“Babygirl,” he breathed, and she gnawed at her lip, clenching around him, shivering with pleasure…

When she recovered long enough to regain her senses, she pushed up against him, Steve allowing her the room to move, and he was falling onto his back, a growl low in his throat when she wrapped her lips around his cock, swallowing him down.

“That where you want it?” he hissed. “You want me in your throat -? Fuck…”

She loved him this way, so worked up he couldn’t keep the filthy commentary out of his pretty mouth, her eyes smarting from the effort of it, his hand pushing her head down, Darcy losing air, choking on him. She gripped his thigh, her hand wrapped around what she couldn’t manage to fit, unless she was sitting on her knees, Steve literally down her throat. She done it before when she’d put his hands on either side of her head after she’d begged him to fuck her face, the back of her skull against the bedroom wall. Her eyes had rolled back that time, her thighs soaking wet.

“Gonna make me come so hard,” he went on, Darcy moaning around him, wanting it, knowing if she wanted more all she’d have to do was bend over, swivelling her hips.

All she had to do was lift her chin at him from across a room and he’d fly to her. All Steve had to do was point to the ground and she’d fucking crawl to him. She’d asked him to do that to her before, and he hadn’t disappointed.

He took her by surprise, his hand slipping down her backside to tuck two fingers into her cunt, his thumb swiping at her, his eyes shifting from her face to her naked body splayed across him, Darcy’s fingers of her spare hand digging into his broad thigh, her whimper muffled, her throat full.

He pulled her up suddenly, kissing her mouth, sucking at her lips and tongue, panting along with her, breaking apart, his face bursting into a grin, too infectious, Darcy giggling at him.

“Fuck, I love you –”

Darcy moved back down without prompting, Steve chuckling at her eagerness.

“Can’t fucking get enough of you, Darcy… Jesus _Christ_ , your fucking mouth…”

She felt him grow just that bit more, his groans taking over, and he yanked at her scalp, pinching her clit, Darcy’s orgasm slamming into her as Steve spilled into her, his come hitting the back of her throat, making her cough and splutter before she managed to swallow it all down, licking eagerly, Steve hissing from his sensitivity…

“Babygirl, you _good girl_ ,” he whispered, sounding far away, sounding like he was floating above their bed, and Darcy couldn’t keep the smile from her face, grinning up at him with tears streaming down her face.

-

“Hurry, we’ve only got five minutes,” Bucky called, and Nat put her hands up, flapping them a little, Darcy giggling at her host as they quickly picked up the drinks they made in the kitchen.

“You said that five minutes ago,” Nat called back, winking at Darcy as they made their way back out onto the balcony, handing Steve and Bucky the drinks.

Steve slung his arm back around Darcy, kissing her forehead.

“Yeah, so – it’s gonna happen _any second now_.”

“We should’ve gone to a dive in Williamsburg,” Nat muttered, shooting Darcy a glance. “Instead, you’ve got a shitty barkeep and we have to keep the volume down –”

“I was the one who put Tati to sleep, sweetheart,” Bucky countered, lifting his brows at his wife, who was leaning up to kiss him. “Watch the skies.”

“Make me,” Nat retorted. She gave Darcy a look. “Apologies for being disgustingly cute, we can’t help ourselves.”

“You think these bozos don’t know about that?” Bucky murmured, pointing in Steve and Darcy’s direction without looking their way. His lips curled in a slow grin, his nose brushing Nat’s. “You wanna follow through with that resolution now, or -?”

“Gross,” Steve said, grimacing. “I don’t have to guess what that was.”

“Make a sibling for Tati?” Darcy stage-whispered, and Steve snorted, kissing her face.

“ _Watch the skies_ ,” Bucky said again, louder. Nat shushed him.

Brooklyn didn’t disappoint. As grand as the New Year’s Eve celebrations were in Times Square and other parts of the city, there were plenty of illegal fireworks when the clock struck midnight, the neighborhood erupting in cheers, with bangs and car horns beeping as Steve pulled Darcy into a long kiss, Darcy laughing, her heart swelling.

When they broke apart and the night began to wind down, Darcy’s phone chimed a few times with messages from Jane and Adam, wishing her a Happy New Year. She replied in kind, feeling better than okay with how the night had turned out. She thought she might feel her excitement for what lay ahead begin to seep away, since she still didn’t have a job, or any real idea what she wanted to do in the meantime.

There was a distant wail and Bucky glanced toward the apartment, his face falling.

“Shit –”

“I can go,” Darcy said, and Bucky’s brows lifted. Nat looked similarly surprised, but didn’t protest.

“You sure?” Bucky said.

“Yeah,” she murmured, peeling herself away from Steve. “And if I get stuck, I’ll ask for help.”

She walked off, moving through the apartment, stepping over Tati’s toys, following the sound of her cries, finding her in her cot, standing up and crying.

“You’re okay,” Darcy whispered, and Tati seemed surprised to see her. “Was everyone making too much noise?”

Tati nodded, her chin quivering, but she soon stopped crying, Darcy plucking her from the cot to hold her to her chest, her lips brushing the toddler’s temple.

“I’ll sit with you, okay?” she whispered, moving toward the chair, pushing a stuffed elephant from it, sitting down with Tati on her lap, her face in the crook of Darcy’s neck. “We're gonna stay here as long as you need…”

She hummed no real tune, rocking the chair, Tati’s eyes falling shut. A few minutes later, she glanced toward the doorway, seeing Steve there, crossing his arms and resting against the frame, his lips pulling into a half-smile.

“I love you,” he whispered, and Darcy mouthed it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4pSevYt5HLyxaTXcyphBpg?si=yaA40MlzQW2AH3NuMaYz8w)   
>  [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


	15. xv. Forever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi, I am feeling too much today because this is over now but thank you for reading

_I get what I want_   
_I want what I see_   
_I wanna do, do, do, do bad things with you_   
**\- "Bad Things" by Cailin Russo**

_Because maybe_   
_You're gonna be the one that saves me_   
**\- "Wonderwall" by Oasis**

**xv. Forever**

“Oh, Jesus –”

Darcy felt the Earth tilt, her foot scrambling as she stumbled, her arms full of bags, as she walked up to the apartment building entrance. Reggie’s eyes widened at the sight of her almost falling over, before he dashed out into the street to take hold of her arm, making sure she didn’t end up face-planting on the icy ground.

“You okay, Darcy?”

“Yeah,” she muttered, though her heart was racing, the spike of adrenaline not yet worn off. She cleared her throat, her breath in front of her face. “Maybe I shouldn’t wear these go-go boots in the snow…”

She’d been fine up until that point, and the boots were really fun, but maybe she should only wear them indoors. She’d bought them in the fall, wanting to occasionally live her 70s dream. She was yet to get curtain bangs or flower-shaped earrings, but she’d worn periwinkle eyeshadow when she wore the boots yesterday, darting in and out of their town car as she shopped on 57th Street. As Reggie helped her inside, she flashed him a grateful smile, the foyer air balmy compared to outside.

She took the elevator upstairs, placing all her bags in the living room, unzipping her boots and kicking them aside with a little sigh, carding a hand through her hair. She breathed in the apartment air, gazing around. She had a lot of wrapping to do. More than last year – yet she could have sworn she’d bought less. She knelt by the fire and lit it, having practiced it enough now to not need Steve to do it for her, though she appreciated it when he did.

As she wrapped her presents, she opened her messages, seeing Adam had replied to something, her lips curling at the sight of Naomi and Sarah wearing the Hanukkah knitted sweaters she’d given them last weekend. Darcy got up from her space on the carpet, moving toward the mantelpiece to take a photo of the menorah they’d made her. It was a little janky, but that was part of its charm. Darcy had lit it each night of Hanukkah, still feeling like a bit of an imposter, but Adam had been nothing but encouraging all year, since he’d broken away from their parents like Darcy had.

Occasionally, Darcy still saw her sister Hannah on Facebook or Instagram, having started dating a new man at the beginning of the year, always looking good. She hadn’t spoken to her since Christmas, except for a text message on Darcy’s birthday. It still hurt a little, but Darcy was better this way, she knew it every time Adam messaged her, which tended to be a daily occurrence. There was one from Jane, a quick update on how her Hanukah with Brunn was going – Jane’s parents got to meet their daughter’s girlfriend for the first time on Thanksgiving and were surprisingly okay that Jane was dating a woman, which made Jane feel a little guilty that she assumed the worst of them for so long, keeping Brunn a secret for months, pretending they were only roommates when Darcy officially moved into Steve’s apartment.

Then there was Steve, whose messages ranged from sweet to downright filthy, but this one he’d sent as Darcy was traveling back to the apartment was more cryptic than usual. Darcy opened it again, wondering what to reply with.

**_I’m coming home early, is that okay?_ **

He wasn’t usually unsure of whether Darcy’s boundaries were being pushed. It was her day off, she wasn’t looking after Tati that day, which she did three days a week. She wasn’t paid as a nanny anywhere near as much as the ones that even worked in their building, but she didn’t care. She got to get out of the house and do something she actually liked for once – she thought about expanding the clientele, but she was also in no hurry to try to take on more work. She knew she was incredibly lucky that way, having Steve’s income and have hers not affect their lives too much.

**_Sure_ **

She worried her lip for a second, before pushing aside her thoughts. She hadn’t done anything wrong, he was probably torn between two modes right now. She went back to wrapping gifts, placing them under the tree in quick succession, making sure Steve’s were hidden away before she heard the key in the lock and the front door opening and shutting in the distance.

He wandered over to her, his winter coat still on, crouching beside her and taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger to tilt her head upwards for a short kiss. He smiled down at her, like he didn’t do that every day. He never seemed to get sick of her. Darcy grinned at him.

“What did you buy today?” he murmured, glancing at the pile of wrapping paper and empty bags, eyebrows hiking. “Anything for you?”

“No,” she murmured back, and he gave his head a fond little shake. “You can spoil me some other time, I was buying Christmas presents.”

“Can believe it’s Christmas again,” Steve said, not for the first time, shaking his head some more. He pulled in a breath. “I got news.”

“Oh?” Darcy said, sure that she’d been waiting for those exact words, her hands gliding up his front, rubbing the soft material of his coat. “What is it?”

“Brock quit,” he said, and Darcy’s eyes widened.

“Are you serious?”

Steve gave a grin, very much not in Lawyer Mode. He gave the Christmas tree a little scan of his eyes.

“He’s… been having a bit of a rough time, since his wife left,” he murmured.

If Darcy were him, she’d be dancing on every floor of Stark Rogers Fury, possibly doing cartwheels as well. In typical Steve Rogers grace, he wasn’t overwhelmed with glee, but quietly pleased, smirking down at Darcy when he looked back at her.

“And?” Darcy prompted.

“Well, he was a little pissed that his Christmas bonus wasn’t a little bigger,” Steve said, tilting his head. “Sort of spiralled from there. I told him he wasn’t being professional and he tried to land a punch –”

“What?” Darcy gasped, covering her mouth a second later. “He tried to _fight_ you?”

“I quickly reminded him that I grew up in Brooklyn, and I fought pieces of shit his size since I was eight years-old.”

Darcy stared at him, her eyes shifting to his right hand, seeing his knuckles were split.

“I’m assuming he’s… _very_ fired?” Darcy said eventually, turning Steve’s hand over, examining it. “Do we have anything to clean this?”

“He _is_ very fired, and maybe… maybe in the bathroom cabinet,” Steve murmured, looking untroubled.

“You’re surprisingly chill given the day you’ve had,” Darcy said, standing up, tugging Steve from the floor to walk him into the bathroom, switching the light on as they stepped inside.

She took out some antiseptic cream from the cabinet and uncapped it, their eyes meeting again.

“You _tore_ up your knuckles, baby,” Darcy murmured, Steve’s brows lifting ever so slightly. “I knew you really didn’t like him…”

“What’s to like?” he retorted, and Darcy’s lips parted and she nodded, beginning to dab some of the cream on the cuts.

Steve drew in a breath, his knuckles stinging, and Darcy worked as fast as possible, grabbing a couple bandages from the cabinet to cover him up. She put his knuckles to her lips, kissing them, feeling a warmth in her chest.

“You okay?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I think Brock was pissed because I just told everyone I was going to go part-time –”

Darcy’s eyes widened at this, but Steve pressed on, his face changing.

“-and everyone said I deserved it, for how hard I’ve been working.”

He never said any of this about himself, it was rare for Darcy to hear Steve acknowledge any of the praises he got from work. She stared up at him, his injured hand still between her two.

“Steve…”

“Is that okay? I meant to talk to you first, but… I figured I should just do it, before I changed my mind,” he said. “And it was one of our last big meetings for the year, with all the partners in one place.”

It sounded like Brock’s jealousy had cost him his job. Darcy had heard that while she and Steve were happily coupled up in Manhattan that Brock’s wife had walked out, which was the least of what the man deserved. Darcy kissed Steve’s hand again, before Steve tugged her by the waist into him, their hips bumping.

“It’s more than okay, but is it what you really want?” she murmured, and he nodded.

“Absolutely.”

Darcy felt a wave of emotion crest over her, her eyes suddenly smarting, and she burst into another grin, happy tears threatening to spill over. He took hold of both Darcy’s hands then, kissing _her_ knuckles, his half-smile warm, his eyes shining down at hers.

There was a beat and Darcy began to giggle.

“I’m sorry, you beat up Brock Rumlow at work today?”

“Yeah, I did,” Steve said. “Can’t take the Brooklyn out of the boy, apparently.”

“I feel like I would’ve paid to see that,” Darcy whispered, and Steve grinned at her.

_“Really?”_

He brought her into a kiss, Darcy sighing, and then she was laughing again, a giddiness taking over her. Steve’s hands were everywhere, lips brushing her skin, pleasure mounting as they managed to make their way into the bedroom, flopping down on the mattress.

Sometime later, when Darcy was looking up at Steve as he leaned on an elbow, his hand stroking her face, the blankets tangled at the bottom of the bed, the room smelling of sex, she couldn’t look past the reverence on his face.

“How long are you gonna stay with me?” he whispered.

Darcy didn’t have to think. “Forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Starting now.”

Steve grinned, slow and warm, leaning down for another kiss, whispering:

“3…2…1…”

He slanted his mouth over hers, Darcy’s eyes fluttering shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [my Tumblr](http://grimeysociety.tumblr.com/)


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